


still good

by pheonix85



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Science, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Inspired by Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Multiverse, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Time Skips, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pheonix85/pseuds/pheonix85
Summary: 3 years after Endgame, Peter Parker is still your friendly, neighborhood Spiderman, but now he's in college, he has a girlfriend, they've all been slowly rebuilding their lives in its wake.Some aren't doing as well, though, and when one of Peter's nemesis gets up to no good, Peter finds himself stranded, he goes searching for the one possible option to get himself home.(Into the Spiderverse inspired)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I proofread this like 5 times but its unbeta'd so please let me know if you saw anything. I'm finally past my angry coda phase and I've moved into my "I can fix that" place.

**3 years, post-Endgame**

Peter didn’t care for the quiet.

Quiet was never a good sign. Quiet usually meant one of his regulars was up to something they weren’t supposed to be doing, something worse than the run of the mill criminal activity and the way his senses were acting, he suspected the couple of earthquakes that had rocked the city this week had something to do with it.

Right now though. He pulled the mask of his suit up around his nose, staring hungrily down at the sandwich and took a bite. Humming happily, he pulled his phone out from his suit and typed in his PIN, checking his notifications.

A text from MJ---something about groceries and a reminder about brunch with her mom the next day. Peter held back a groan.

A text from Aunt May---making sure he was still coming over for dinner next week. _Of course_.

Snapchat---he shook his head and opened it, and there was Morgan and that dumb cat filter over her face, singing along to some pop song in the background with her friends. He couldn’t keep the grin from his face and pressed save, like he did with all the goofy videos and other stuff she sent him.

He needed to call Pepper. He’d had to cancel late on his last trip to the cabin because of school, but it was getting to the late summer and that was always nice out by the lake. He and MJ had been talking about taking Pepper up on one of her long weekends sometime soon, and if he were honest about it, he couldn’t wait.

He finished his sandwich and balled up the paper, shoving it in a plastic bag to throw away once he swung down from the rooftop.

Perched on the side of the building, he surveyed the streets below. Whatever had been happening, the epicenter was right around this area, deep under the streets and if Peter was going to track it down, he needed to see if he could spot where he needed to drop in first.

And today just seemed to be his lucky day.

Or, night rather. He was up there for awhile, pacing back and forth, biding his time until around 10, when he saw a nondescript black van pull up in an alley, and two guys get out dressed in suits.

Always a kosher situation.

He watched them walk towards the nearest subway station, surveying the property as they went, and so Peter followed. Sticking almost flat against the walls, he crawled behind them, just out of sight when they’d look behind. Distantly, he wished the suit could be updated better---he was only allowed access to S.H.I.E.L.D’s resources when it was official government business and this hadn’t seemed to alarm them to that level yet, so he was stuck with whatever improvements he was able to fashion with Bruce’s help and Bruce just wasn’t Tony Stark.

Peter tried not to wince at the thought. It didn’t hurt that much anymore to think of him, but the ache would always flare up a little, kind of like pressing on a bruise. Peter was thankful for it though, more than anything---it meant he’d had something that meant that much to him and a lot of people couldn’t say that, especially for someone like Mr. Stark.

The guys cut a corner quickly and Peter almost lost them before crawling up to the ceiling and pressing himself flush against it. He followed them through a maze of tunnels, the echoes of passing trains causing the walls to tremble slightly.

The path opened up to a cavern, a huge empty space lined with what looked like reflective panels. In the middle of the room, there was a massive cylinder that jutted out over the center of the space, with panels of it's own that overlapped, apparently to facilitate a rotation. Peter shrunk back as he took it all in, swinging over when his eyes landed on a construction stand closer to the device.

“Hey Kare, you wanna put me in recon mode?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

His hearing intensified immediately. There was a lot of buzz, a lot of static but he was able to pick up a couple of voices. And when he did, he groaned.

“We ready for test run 3?”

“On it, boss.”

_Fisk._

Peter knew it. He just _knew it._ Fisk had been lying low for too long and keeping to himself. He hung his head and groaned. Then he stretched out his back, cracked his neck.

He had some work to do.

Whatever this machine was, Peter felt his insides beginning to vibrate as it roared to life. Peter’s head snapped up, eyes darting back and forth. He had no idea how to stop the thing---the air around him whipped into a frenzy, lights began to flash and as he sat there, going over things in his head, his body began to feel...very weird. Like it was taffy and someone was pulling it apart, but it didn’t hurt.

And then he saw it. He scrambled up onto the top of the stand and crouched, watching what looked to be a black hole in the middle of thin air expand until…

“Get him out of there!”

His gaze jerked to a viewing deck above where the device was operating from. In the window he could see the outline of Fisk’s body, bookended by the two guys Peter had followed in. He cursed under his breath; he should have known.

He held out an arm and webbed towards the overhang, hoping to swing and flip up into where Fisk was, attempting to figure out how best he could shatter the glass. He didn’t get that far though.

Pressure enveloped him. The taffy sensation got more intense and he winced against it, trying to pull himself towards the deck, but the webbing remained taut, until it snapped and all he felt was the pull getting stronger and stronger until there wasn’t anything at all.

* * *

“Fuck.”

Peter came to with a curse and a wince, pulling his arm over his eyes. There was a bright light and the air smelled like it had rained or was about to. When he tried to move, his entire body ached and he sighed deeply, waiting for it to abate.

What the fuck had happened?

He squinted against what ended up being a streetlight above him. He pushed himself up in to a seated position in an attempt to grab his bearing as he looked around and suddenly realized…

There was no one.

There wasn’t anyone on the streets. Granted it was night time; it was dark, and by a quick glance up at the moon it had to be close to midnight but there really was no one and he frowned.

It was uncomfortably quiet. Peter didn’t even hear bugs chirping from the trees and he slowly rose to his feet, surveying the area.

He recognized it. It was close to his and Aunt May’s old place but..it was different.

It looked kind of abandoned.

He could see cars on the street. Some of the apartments had lights on but some of them didn’t. A lot of them didn’t, actually, but that wasn't so strange for late at night. He looked around him and decided to jog in the direction of where he and MJ lived, to at the very least make sure she was okay because he was pretty sure whatever Fisk was doing, it was the source of the earthquakes.

It took a few minutes, but eventually he came to his building. He landed on the roof in a crouch and found his way to the fire escape, climbing down to the window of their living room and letting himself in.

“Who the hell are you?”

Peter bit back a yell. He jumped up and spun around, coming face to face with some guy wearing a shirt with a band Peter'd never heard of, holding a bottle of beer. The man’s eyes were narrowed, looking at Peter like he was an anomaly and he took a sip.

“Can I help you? Speak!”

Peter started. He stumbled backwards into the wall and upon a quick scan of the room noticed…

This wasn’t his apartment.

Shit. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, him climbing into the wrong place and he held his hands up to shield himself from an oncoming attack.

“Dude, I’m so sorry, I thought this 305A----”

“It is.” The guy bit back. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

And Peter stood still. Because 305A was _his house_ ; his apartment, with his girlfriend and yet….

It wasn’t. His gaze darted around for a second or two before it landed back on the guy whose home he’d apparently invaded. Peter thought back to under the subway, the mystery machine and Fisk, and that pulling feeling and suddenly knew that something had gone very very wrong.

“What year is it?” He breathed.

The guy frowned. “You alright buddy?”

“Just tell me the year.”

“2026.”

Okay. Peter let out a relieved sigh. Okay, so same time. Just…

A different place?

“Dude what in the fuck are you still doing here, get out!”

Peter backtracked towards the window but stopped just before climbing out of it. “Hey, hey, whoa! Wait a second just…” He looked down at the ground, trying to come up with something to say. “Wait, please, just…” He let out an aggravated sigh. “Look. I...I’m lost, alright? Something...happened to me and. I just need a little help. Please, can I just…ask you a few things?”

The guy glared at him. The stranger's entire body was tense, as if he were preparing himself for a confrontation, and Peter couldn't really blame him.  
Because as much as Peter wanted this to be his home, a cursory look around the room told him it wasn't.

"You flying?" The guy asked, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"Are you high? Are you on something?"

"What?" Peter exclaimed. "No, no I'm not high!"

"Hey, don't act like it's a ridiculous thing to assume, you climbed into _my_ window at 11 o'clock on a Saturday night." The guy bit back. He stared at Peter for a moment, clearly weighing what he wanted to do. After a few long seconds of quiet, he snorted and began walking backwards towards his kitchen. "You have 5 minutes to explain, then I'm calling the cops."

“Awesome, yes, thank you,” Peter followed the guy further into the apartment and stopped in the hallway, 10 feet from where the guy was finishing through a drawer.

Peter reached into his suit, pulling out his phone. There was no cell service, no way to reach out to MJ or Aunt May or Pepper, and the battery was low. He let out an irritated noise.

The guy was looking at him, obviously trying to decide if this was the best idea. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid one out of the package before offering them to Peter, who declined. The man shrugged, sticking the cigarette between his lips.

“Nice outfit,” The guy lit the smoke, then gave him a critical look. “A little insensitive though, ain’t it?”

Peter threw up a hand and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

The guy nodded, taking another drag. “The kid. The kid that was that spider kid, he was one of the Vanished.” The guy frowned. “Look, I don’t really give a shit either way but like,” He shrugged. “Whatever dude.”

It was a lot to process. “The Vanished?”

The guy was looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Yeah. You know,” and the guy snapped his finger. “The Vanished.”

Peter stared back at the man, mouth hanging open. _The Vanished_. That's what they had called them, everyone that had disappeared when Thanos had snapped his fingers. Peter had seen the monuments, the ones that had been modified to include the Avengers eventual triumph and Tony's sacrifice. They were more like shrines now, a tribute to the man who'd helped undo the vanishing and in the end, saved them all.

But. This guy wasn't talking about the vanishing in a past tense, at least not in the sense that it was something that _used to be_. Peter's heart started to race and his stomach began to flip over and over. He could feel his breathing pick up as his eyes darted around the room and he reached out a hand to steady himself.

"They never came back? The vanished?" He croaked out a question. "But...the Avengers…"

The stranger's wariness had ebbed now, the cigarette hanging from his hand. Instead, the guy relaxed, the look on his face sliding into one of pity. He sighed.

"Look, kid. I get it. We all get it, it gets hard sometimes and we have our days---hell, I have my days. But whoever lived here before for you? They're gone now. You can't get that back. You gotta move on." The guy pulled a drag. "And I don't know what universe you've been living in, but the Avengers haven't been anything in a long time. You sure you're okay, kid? You got someone I can call for you?"

 _I don't know what universe---_ Horror slowly washed over Peter as the realization dawned---he was in another _place_ , a completely different...universe? Whatever Fisk had been doing, he’d done...something terrible, and Peter had been pulled into it, into a place where the Snap hadn’t been undone. Which meant MJ and Aunt May weren’t here, and his heart broke for a second until he realized---

Who might be.

His head spun. “Um. So, I know this is really awkward but…” He fumbled with one of the cases on the belt of his suit, pulling out the small amount of cash he had on him. “This is all I have. Do you have some crappy clothes I could buy off you? I know it’s just $20 but like...?” He sighed, holding it out, completely bereft. “It’s all I have.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, climbing into stranger’s houses and asking for favors,” The guy mused, standing up straighter. His face softened. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me, by the look on your face just now when I mentioned all that stuff but…” He sighed. “My kid brother would have been around your age now, I think. I have some old jeans and a shirt you can have.”

Peter could have cried in relief. “That is so awesome, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He jumped up. He lunged forward to hand the guy his money but the man declined.

“I ain’t giving you anything _nice_ , kid,” He shook his head.

“Well, I promise, I’ll bring it back…”

“I’d rather you not, alls the same.” The guy took the cigarette out of his mouth and left it on an ashtray before heading towards a room on the other side of the hall. When he emerged, he had a holey worn pair of jeans and a red shirt in his hands.

“Here ya go.” He tossed the garments to Peter. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Uh…” Peter fumbled with the clothes, catching them awkwardly. He smiled at the guy. “Peter. Peter….Leeds.”

“Well. Nice to meet you, Peter.” The man nodded. “I’m Eric. You gonna be able to get to where you need to go alright?”

Peter cocked his head to the side.

“When I mentioned the Vanished, your face did this...thing,” Eric shrugged. “Like you realized something. I figured you’d leave pretty soon after.”

Peter nodded. “Hey, can I use your bathroom to---”

The guy motioned down the hall. “Feel free.”

He changed quickly. When he came out of the bathroom, the guy handed him a plastic bag for his suit. When Peter tried once more to give him some money, Eric declined for the last time.

“Seriously, don’t. Just go. I don’t want to know anything, just pay it forward. You need it more than I do right now."

“Th...thank you,” Peter said softly. He fidgeted where he stood, not really sure what else to say. "I guess I'll get out of your hair. I'm sorry for busting into your house and scaring you."

"You didn't scare me, kid," The guy defended but he was grinning. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Peter." He paused. "I hope you can fix whatever is going on."

Peter stopped on his way to the window. He turned, looking back at Eric, who was now leaning against the wall watching him. There was a weight behind his words, a heaviness in his gaze and Peter realized for the first time that even though the guy probably couldn't be certain, he had at least realized that something was happening here that was bigger than both of them.

"I will," Peter replied with a nod. "I kinda have to. If I wanna get home."

Peter hurried over to the window with a little skip, hand wrapped up around the plastic bag he had, and he peered out into the night. There was no one on the street, so he should be okay to hop down the wall going relatively unnoticed. He surveyed the street, looking for a car that someone might not notice was missing until the morning.

"Hey, kid," the guy asked. "I never asked---where you from?"

Peter smiled, looking back as he hung halfway out the window onto the fire escape. "Queens."

And then he slipped out into the night.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining Avengers are surviving.
> 
> Peter decides to follow his feet

Natasha was asleep on a couch when Bruce walked into the rec room of the Compound.

Some cheesy romcom from the early 2000s played quietly on the television on the wall. She shifted in her sleep when he turned it off and grabbed at a blanket to lay over her. She curled into the cushions behind her, muttering something unintelligible but didn't stir further.

Bruce smiled softly. It was late and he knew she’d been coordinating with their teams throughout the day around the world and elsewhere. It had been 8 years since they’d lost against Thanos, and while life had begun to move on, there were still people who needed help, and Natasha was one of the leaders of that cause.

Bruce had only moved back into the compound a year or so ago. It wasn’t because of Nat, specifically; it had actually been Tony who’d suggested it, who had complimented Bruce on his success with how he had worked things out with the Hulk and offered the vacant lab space for any future projects he wanted to consider. It had taken some consideration but it was nice to be back. The Compound was too big for the handful of people who were living there and it was nice to be close to friends as opposed to the apartment he had been renting in the city.

There was nothing between them anymore, either, if there had been anything there to begin with. 10 years was a long time, and they’d both walked different paths, but it was nice to have found his way back here.

He decided not to wake her. Despite her progress, he knew she still struggled sometimes and sleep didn’t always find her so easily.

“She doing alright?”

Bruce started at the soft voice behind him, spinning where he stood. To his surprise, Steve Rogers stood there in the doorway, a backpack on his shoulder. He smiled.

“Hey! Yeah, she is,” Bruce replied quietly, walking past him and motioning for Steve to follow. “She had kind of a long day, I didn’t want to bother her. What are you doing here?”

They walked down the hall to the command center. The room was live, equipped with tools that monitored activity at various geographic levels, local, city, state, nation, international. There was a transparent pane of glass with a map that was interactive, different holographic tools they could manipulate, constant surveillance in the event of incoming threats or anomalies that they should know about. Tony had been right about a lot of that, much to all of their chagrin, and they would not be caught unawares again.

“Sharon’s in DC until Wednesday, I dropped her off at the station a few hours ago.” Steve’s brow knitted together. “I hope it’s alright I came.”

“You know you’re always welcome here, Steve.” Bruce motioned for him to take a seat. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but is there anything going on we need to know about?”

Steve shook his head, sitting down at the table. “Nope, not really. Just…” He looked over at the maps and the lights and he paused for a few quiet moments. He glanced back at Bruce with a soft smile and shrugged. “Some days it’s just harder than others, especially when I’m by myself and I just felt a little like I needed home. I hope that’s okay.”

Bruce nodded, understanding exactly what Steve meant. “Like I said, you’re always welcome. She’ll be happy to see you in the morning, it’ll be a nice surprise.”

Steve grinned. “I’ve been itching for a good sparring session. Is anyone else----”

He was interrupted by a light flashing red behind the map, an alarm sounding throughout the room. The room was far enough from the rec area that it shouldn’t have disturbed Nat’s rest, but Bruce muted it as soon as the initial shock had abated. It wasn’t unheard of for the alarm to sound, it happened a couple of times a year, but every instance brought that same overwhelming feeling of dread. Of something perhaps just as catastrophic as Thanos to come and finish what he had begun.

Steve pushed himself to his feet, brows knitting in concern as they both stared at the screen in front of them. The red light continued to flash behind the glass, but the image of the map faded away as the image zoomed from a broad, global scene to a more localized image of the island of Manhattan---specifically, just south of Midtown, where a chasm of activity seemed to appear, a sphere swirling with yellows and reds and greens, filtering in and out like a kaleidoscope.

“T.A.D.A.S.H.I., what are we looking at?”

The Compound’s AI answered back smoothly. “We’ve detected a burst of anomalous activity that occurred at approximately 22:45 Eastern Standard Time, in Central Manhattan.”

“Thor?” Bruce offered.

“Negative. Signature is incompatible with what is traditionally associated with that means of arrival.”

“What the hell?” Steve whispered. “What is it?”

“Unable to be determined,” The AI answered. “Dr. Banner, I suggest a thorough investigation in the matter to determine next appropriate course of action.”

Bruce sighed deeply. “Yeah. Of course, that’s...yeah.” He slowly walked towards the door. “Steve, you mind getting Rhodes on the line? I’m gonna go get Natasha, she’s gonna want to see this.”

Steve frowned. “Why can’t you just let her sleep? I’m sure we could work through this.”

“Nah. She’d be pissed. No rest for the wicked, or something like that.” He stopped in the doorway. “Call Rhodes. Maybe give Sharon a heads up as well. The more takes on this the better.”

“And Tony?”

Bruce paused. “Let’s see what we can come up with first. I don’t want to bother him if it ends up being nothing to worry about.”

* * *

Peter knew he shouldn't be doing this.

He had a strict, no stealing policy, but all the same---here he was, hands deep inside the console of this older looking Honda, fishing around to find…

Ah. Yep. There it was. He pulled the wires he grabbed out into the open, stripping them of their covers and pressed the opposing ends together.

The car sputtered to life.

He let out a relieved sigh as he slid into the driver's seat, adjusting all the mirrors to make sure he wasn't going to wreck it. He'd leave a note when he dumped it, a few miles from the cabin. An apology, maybe even try and phone in an anonymous tip. At almost midnight, the buses didn't run where he needed to go.

The drive wasn’t going to take nearly as long as it usually did, considering it was late and the roads were empty. Peter wondered if that might have something to do with the fact that he’d apparently landed in a place where they hadn’t managed to undo the Snap. It gave him a lot of time to consider the situation he’d found himself. From a purely logistical perspective---how, when, where, why---and even some more of the more personal aspects of it.

He started with the underground cavern where this had all really started. He didn’t really want to call it a lair, because he doubted any of the actual planning started there, but the device was massive. The more Peter considered it, the more he realized it looked like one of the particle accelerators he’d read about in AP Physics, like the Large Hadron Collider at CERN. He couldn’t be certain of it, of course, but it made him uneasy to think Wilson Fisk was playing around with something that powerful.

Well. Not just playing. It had obviously worked, had been able to do _something_ , though Peter couldn’t be sure that transporting someone to another universe was what Fisk had had in mind.

So. A particle accelerator. Interdimensional travel.

He was definitely going to need someone’s help with this.

At least he knew there was something like the Avengers still in this world. Or that there had been, based on what that Eric guy had told him. So that meant someone---hopefully Mr. Stark, or Bruce Banner, or even a Reed Richards type---though Peter was still warming to him in his own reality. Just...someone that could help him get home.

Because he needed to do that. He was...overwhelmed, frankly, at the idea of maybe seeing Mr. Stark again. But if this was what he thought it might be---a world where the first Snap was never undone---it meant it was probably a world without Aunt May, or MJ, or Ned...even Flash Thompson, though Peter would never admit to missing that.

As much as he’d ever wanted Mr. Stark back, this wasn’t his home. It belonged to another Peter, even another Mr. Stark. And who knew what kinds of ramifications this might have in the long run.

Mr. Stark might even be a **Big If**. Peter had a creeping fear that he would make this drive to find nothing, an empty plot of land overlooking a lake, or worse---someone else’s home, someone else’s life. What if, in this universe, Mr. Stark hadn’t even made it back from Titan?

He supposed that was just his brain trying to keep him safe. As soon as it had sunk in at that apartment that he was in a separate but similar place, he’d almost gotten sick at the idea that Mr. Stark might still be _alive_. He might get to see him again, and tell him about what had been going on with Spiderman, and how he was in college now, and how Aunt May and Happy were _dating_ and then…

And then he’d had to calm himself down. Had to tell himself that even if Mr. Stark was around in this universe, it wasn’t _his_ Mr. Stark. What if---and this was his biggest fear, most of all----what if Mr. Stark was there, at the house, and didn’t even care or know who Peter was when he showed up? Who knew what could be different here?

And so Peter turned on the radio, needing something to distract him. He played the music as loud as he could and pressed down on the gas to go a little faster, trying to drown out the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

It was close to 1 am before he pulled up a few miles away from where he needed to go. He didn’t want to park the stolen car on their property; instead, he pulled off to the side of the road, rifling through the glove compartment and finding an old pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling a note of apology and a location from where he’d taken the car.

He got out and made sure it was locked, tossing the keys in the backseat before heading away in the dark. It was a long stretch of a two lane road and street lights were sparse but it was enough and Peter remembered this place. He’d been making the journey regularly for three years, he was as welcome at the Stark’s cabin as anywhere else.

He just hoped it was still there.

It took time but soon he came upon the mouth of a long dirt driveway, a stone mailbox set to the side under an iron arch. Anyone who didn’t know who lived there would never know it; in his own universe, it was unlisted and kept private.

But Peter knew.

He started towards the home, his path only illuminated by the moon. When he came upon it, he stood for a moment, staring at the sight of its reflection off the lake, set behind the all too familiar cabin.

_They’re here,_ his heart thrummed. He knew it; he could feel it in his bones.

Most of the house was dark, save for a few lights on in what he knew to be the master suite---completely understandable, as it was 1 in the morning. In any other circumstance, he would be crazy to come upon anyone’s house at that time of night, but this was dire. He was stranded, and he didn’t know what was going on and most importantly---

He had to know. Peter had to see if he was here, alive, if Tony still knew him.

He knew his way around the place well enough. He headed close to the garage, trying to keep quiet. He figured he could slide along the siding and ring the bell, to try and avoid setting off any alarms or surveillance settings that may be in place. Pepper had a fairly simple alarm system and private security on call, as she’d given up trying to figure out and manage what Tony had designed. Considering that may no longer be the case, Peter didn’t want to be caught facing a suit without being fully prepared.

He hadn’t counted on the motion lighting though; that was different. Two flood lights lit up the space in front of the garage and Peter’s spider sense began to scream at him. Without thinking, he threw himself on the ground, rolling to his side just in time to avoid a crowbar coming down at his head.

He curled into a ball, bringing his arms up beside his head to protect himself. It was dark out. He was certain parts of himself were illuminated in the motion light that had come on when it had detected him. Peter considered himself mostly lucky there wasn’t some kind of defense system that was gonna blast him to smithereens.

But he heard it---the charge of a repulsor, something he hadn’t heard in a very long time, and he curled into the dark tighter.

“Get. Up.” The voice was hard now, and clear---Peter knew exactly who it belonged to and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Or I swear to God, I’ll blow your ass to last Sunday.”

Keeping his head down the best he could, trying to lean into the shadows, Peter scrambled to his feet. He wanted to look. He wanted to spring forward and spill about how the last 5 hours of his night had been, but he was also very very conscious of the active gauntlet pointed in his direction and he didn’t want to make any sudden movement and have this go completely wrong.

“You better have a damn good answer for creeping around my house at 1 in the fucking morning,” Tony growled. “Are you with the press? I swear, I’ll have you fired before the sun is up, I’m gonna put your name out to every outlet regarding unethic---”

“I...I was looking for Pepper or...maybe you?” Peter stammered out, stepping back a foot or two into the dark. “I needed help, and I wasn’t sure…”

Though his head was bent, Peter could see the shadow of Tony’s arm lower just a bit. Could hear as Tony gasped a little at the sound of his voice, and that was when he dared to look up.

He could see Tony’s face in the light. There was a hard scowl on his face and Tony…

Tony was old. So much older than Peter had remembered him from Titan. He’d only had a few moments with him at the Compound after they all came back, before Tony sacrificed himself, and Peter never liked remembering those last few moments.

Tony’s expression was severe, but his eyes were narrowed, examining, as if he were trying to figure something out. He obviously didn’t find this stranger a threat, or else he’d have already fired the gauntlet and eliminated it. Instead, he waited, considering the body in front of him. The bite was gone from his tone when he spoke again.

“Walk into the light.”

Peter’s stomach twisted into knots and he stayed frozen in place, still staring at Tony in the darkness. He was still hidden, Peter knew, but he wanted to make sure he was prepared when he faced his old mentor. Wanted to have a decent poker face when he walked out, he didn’t want Tony to know that he was scared and Tony could always read him like a book. So for the moment he hesitated, hung back, and took it in.

Tony’s hair was a mess of gray and black and lighter gray. The beard was the same, and he was wearing a long burgundy robe lined with some kind of gold thread. Peter had to keep from rolling his eyes for a moment but then it set in…

_Mr. Stark_

The repulsor charge re-engaged. “I’m not gonna tell you again, come into the----”

And Peter did as he was told.

Mr. Stark didn’t recognize him. Not right away, Peter could see that. At first, Tony still wore the harsh expression, but as Peter felt the light flood his features, it took Tony about 10 seconds to realize…

He turned white as a sheet and the scowl dropped off his face, replaced with a wide-eyed, almost terrified look. He stepped back, his arm with the gauntlet dropping to his side and his jaw hung open, completely at a loss for words.

“He--, Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you but, um. I kinda need your help.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still laying some of the ground work but I'm super into this right now and have a lot written and outlined. Thanks to blondsak for taking some time to give it a once over!
> 
> This is gonna divert a little from how the remaining Avengers were handled in Endgame, as Peter has technically found himself in different universe, so I did just want to make it clear that some of it is intentional.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony deals with an unexpected house guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there are gonna be a lot of stuff I use from Spiderverse throughout this story, and they're gonna start popping up, so if you've been putting off watching it, just know that (and go watch it---not because of this story but because it's honestly amazing)
> 
> this is unbeta'd so again, please give me a heads up if my proofing missed anything glaring. onward!

There were not a great many things that took Tony Stark by surprise any longer.

That had begun, really, with the wormhole. Life beyond the Earth's atmosphere was not an if, to Tony, it never had been; but seeing it, fighting aliens and flying up into that portal to another galaxy, the great expanse of nothing, that had been the beginning of a whole host of moments that he could not truly begin to believe.

But it became easier every time to recover. Dr. Strange with his mystical arts, a set of stones that governed the balance of the universe and a mad Titan who had taken everything from them with a snap of his fingers.

Throw in a talking raccoon and a cyborg, and Tony Stark had been certain he'd seen enough unbelievable things that the universe had thrown at him to never be taken off guard by it again.

The Universe had just never given Tony something so impossible, something that he'd wanted so much.

Until now.

And it was enough to make him cautious, if not in downright denial of the person who stood in front of him.

The silence stretched between them. Peter---or whoever this was that looked and sounded a lot like Peter---gaped at him with wide, wet eyes.

_Scared_. He was scared, of Tony, Tony could hear that clearly enough in the stutter of his greeting.

Tony swallowed hard. He lifted the arm wielding the gauntlet up about halfway, never even blinking as he stared at the figure in front of him, a visage that had to be a trap.

The Peter thing held its hands up in front of its chest, eyes darting to the repulsor. "Mr. Stark, _please_ , it's me, its Peter, I swear. I mean…" Peter swallowed now, beginning to tremble. "Maybe you don't know me here. That's alright, but I knew you, where I'm from and----"

"And where might that be?" Tony snapped.

Impossibly enough, Peter's eyes widened more. "Um...I think? Another universe?"

He'd said it so quietly Tony was sure he'd misheard him. "Another...universe?"

Peter made an exasperated sound. He dug his hands into his hair. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I honestly don't know _what_ happened, all I know, is there was this huge machine, and Fisk was there, and then it got all loud and I felt really just...I felt weird, Mr. Stark, like my body was being pulled in like, a thousand directions and then I woke up in Midtown and everything was different! And I just…"

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed, taking a few steps from him, dropping the gauntlet for real now. “Hey, calm down, breathe, kid, breathe,” And he reached out with the non-weapon clad hand, having disposed of the crowbar that he’d been wielding in defense. His fingers made contact with Peter’s arm and both of them froze, eyes meeting.

This person...he was _warm_ , and Tony felt a shock at the base of his neck. Not necessarily directly from touching the kid, but just because…

He wasn't sure _what_ he'd been expecting, but this stranger, he seemed real. He was solid, a person unless he was a clone or some kind of extremely advanced humanoid that was meant to trick him, but something told Tony that wasn’t the case. Because what the young man had said---another universe---while plausible, he supposed, was one of those unbelievable new things that Tony would have to now take into account when considering all options.

He took the moment to look around their general perimeter. Tony noted, for the first time, finally able to get past the boy’s familiar face, that the kid was wearing a plain red t-shirt and some raggedy jeans that looked like they had seen better days. There was what looked to be a plastic grocery bag a few feet away, a mass of blue and red fabric poking out of it that Tony assumed belonged to him as well.

Now that the initial shock of seeing the kid subsided, Tony held up his gloved hand with a sigh. “Okay, look. I’m gonna keep this on because I’m not quite 100% here, but we’re gonna go inside. Grab your stuff,” He nodded to the bag on the ground. “Follow me. Touch. Nothing.” He gave the younger man a very pointed look. “My wife and kid are out of town at her sister’s for the next week but she’ll know and I don’t wanna deal with it on top of all this. But we can talk about this some more and…” He sighed again, more deeply this time, shaking his head. “We can try and figure out what’s going on.”

The Peter lookalike nodded and bent to the ground to do as he was told. He followed Tony towards the main house, silent the whole way. Tony managed to keep one eye on him as they went, watching as Peter very nonchalantly hung the bag onto the hooks on their entryway walls. It was only then that Tony noticed the kid was barefoot.

“Did you walk all this way without shoes?”

The younger man blinked back. “Um. Yes? I didn’t really get a chance to pack before being pulled into an alternate universe. Didn’t get the heads up.”

Tony’s eyes flashed. “Funny. Wait here. I’m gonna get you something to wear before you go traipsing dirt throughout my house.”

There was a coat closet down the hall, where they had a few spare slippers that they used for when they needed to run outside to grab something quickly, and Tony didn’t pay attention when he reached in and pulled out a random pair from the cloth bin next to the door. He walked over, pushing them into the hands of a very confused looking young man.

Peter stood, holding them without speaking. Tony blinked at him a few times, finally asking in a huff, "Well?"

“They’re pink.”

“They’re Pepper’s,” Tony answered without thinking. “And you can go barefoot when you’re clean. Until then, slip them on.”

Peter's face flushed, but he did as he was told and followed Tony into the kitchen, where he was directed to sit at the large kitchen island under dim lights, and Tony watched, quietly, as Peter hopped up on one of the stools as if…

...as if he'd done it before. As if it were something he did all the time.

It unnerved Tony. People in new places, you could tell when they were still getting their bearing but there was none of that here. Sure, the kid seemed uneasy but that seemed to be because of Tony himself, and not their surroundings; if anything, the kid had relaxed once they had entered the house.

"You've been here before," Tony stated.

Peter blinked at him. "I...I mean, not _here_ , here. But in my universe, yeah. A ton of times."

“You said you were looking for me _or_ Pepper,” Tony eyed him, crossing his arms. “You got a Morgan too?”

For the first time, Peter's face lit up with a grin. "Yeah, I do. We hang out all the time when I come to visit. She always gets me to help her with her homework.”

Something twisted in Tony’s chest and he managed a pained, small grin, almost like a grimace. He rubbed at his face, beginning to feel overwhelmed. He sighed heavily, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Okay. Okay. Let’s just…” He shook his head, bracing himself against the opposite side of the island. “Start at how your night started... _there_. I’m gonna get us some tea and you’re gonna walk me through what happened, let’s figure this out.”

Peter didn’t object, starting off with how the island of Manhattan had been wracked with a few low-grade earthquakes over the past couple weeks. He steadily recounted how he had identified a few men who he thought looked suspicious and followed them into the subway, eventually leading to an open space, large enough to fit a basketball court in, and described the device---a large, cylindrical machine, one that had roared to life, created an awful lot of wind and then….

“And then you were here.” Tony finished, sliding a mug of fresh chamomile over to him. Peter shrugged, accepting the cup with a nod.

“And then I was here.”

Tony bit the inside of his lip. The kid had said it looked like a particle accelerator from something he had read about in a few articles. Tony supposed, based on what he knew about the collider’s he’d researched, that it was theoretically possible but by all accounts, they were years away from ever actually achieving the type of technology Peter was talking about.

Which meant….he looked back over to Peter, who was leaning against the counter on his forearms, staring at the granite with a blank look.

It meant, that the kid could be stranded here an awfully long time if they couldn’t figure this out.

Tony made a disconcerting noise, a hiss of air cutting through nearly closed teeth. He stood, rubbing the back of his neck, letting out a low noise in his throat as he stretched out his lower back. “I mean, kid. You came to the right place for help, but I’m afraid I got some not so great news for you if this is Fisk. It’s kind of a long story but it’s starts about 8 years ago and involves a giant dick of a purple alien and these magic rocks...”

“Infinity stones,” Peter chimed in, flat, and then his voice got soft. “We had Thanos too.”

The air left Tony’s lungs. He felt his stomach lurch and he swallowed hard, his tongue suddenly thick. Tony knew that tone, the despondency, and sadness of it, the devastation.

“Well, then,” Tony started breathlessly. “You know what he did. And maybe the chips didn’t fall the same in your reality, obviously, but here...look, kid, here, Fisk was one of the Vanished. Anything he was working on in your reality? I doubt it exists here.”

Peter didn’t seem fazed by it. He peered up at Tony through a lock of hair that had fallen into his face. There was a hint of a smile, he didn’t seem as disappointed as Tony would have expected him to be.

“That’s why I came to the smartest guy in the universe.”

Tony made a noise. “I guess my counterpart and I have something in common, and you figured it out in both places. Flattery will most certainly get you anywhere with me.”

Peter laughed.

Tony had to consciously stop himself from grinning. Because this sort of situation? It needed to be handled from a reasonable, logical perspective. He could not watch this boy and think of him as _his Peter_. His Peter had suffered a different fate, and this boy could not know what that was like, or how this world was, not really, and he didn’t _replace_ his Peter, because no one could ever do that and Tony would never want them to; and even if they could, in the end, the real resolution to this was to get him back to his Universe, because who knew what unknown ramifications this sort of thing had.

And it was then, with that horrible thought, that Tony realized he had jinxed it. That’s when it all went south.

Peter opened his mouth to say something but the words never came. Instead, his face contorted in agony and he curled into himself with a pained cry, grabbing onto the counter with one hand from the stool he sat on, clutching at his midsection with the other and then...

Then he started to... _jumble_.

That’s the only way Tony could think to explain it. His entire being seemed to begin shifting, layering over itself and contorting in impossible directions and it was almost like, for a moment, the kid was becoming transparent.

“Kid?” Tony asked, suddenly concerned. 

“Mr. Stark----I----” Peter managed and his body listed to the side, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Tony dropped his mug onto the countertop, spilling tea all over as he dashed around the island and caught the boy as he fell towards the ground.

“Pete? Peter!” Tony was terrified, lowering the boy to the ground, grabbing one of his arms as he kept a hand bracing the back of Peter’s neck. The boy was still twitching, seemingly phasing, and that went on for another 5-10 seconds before he seemed to settle and become solid once more.

But he didn’t move.

“Peter?!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck no_ , this was not happening, not again. Tony jostled him again, pressing two fingers to the boy’s neck and relaxed in relief when he felt a soft thrum under the tips. It was a few seconds of silence, but Peter’s eyelids began to twitch and Tony didn’t even think about what he was doing, he just hauled the kid up against his chest, wrapping his arms around his back.

“You’re back here for all of a half hour and you’re already trying to give me a heart attack, what the _hell_ , kid?”

Peter started to laugh but it ended up as a cough, and he buried his head a little into Tony’s shoulder. “Sorry. But that fucking hurt, holy shit…” His hands curled around the cloth of Tony’s sleeves, pulling at it. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t…” Tony shook his head, still pressing his hand into Peter’s back. “Honestly, it looked like...It kind of looked like you were shifting. Like your cells were…” Tony shook his head. “Like you were phasing or something. I don’t know.” He rested his forefinger and thumb at the base of Peter’s neck, the same way he held Morgan after a nightmare. “Scared the dickens out of me kid.”

He felt the kid nodded against him. “Mr. Stark?” Peter mumbled into his shoulder, his breath hot on Tony’s neck. “Not that this isn’t nice but you can, um...you can let go of me now.”

Tony’s face burned. “Yeah. I’m...sorry, this is probably weird.” He laughed awkwardly. “God, you’ve gotta be at least 20 now, that is weird.”

“No, no it’s alright,” Peter said, sitting back against the cabinet on the kitchen floor. He was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead; he was still wincing, the immediate wake of the pain still with him. “That was so crazy.”

“Probably not that crazy, considering where we’ve found ourselves.” He crossed his arms, resting them on bent knees. “We gotta get this figured out kiddo.”

Peter nodded, rubbing at his head. “What do you think just happened to me?”

“Well, I _think_ you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be and the Universe is probably trying to make that right.”

Which sounded...more ominous than he had meant it to. For the first time since Peter arrived, he seemed to pale. His shoulders slumped and he began to fidget with his fingers, letting out a deep sigh.

Grimly, he spoke. “So it’ll probably happen again.”

Tony didn’t say anything. It was a reasonable assumption. But it wasn’t one they just had to live with.

“Okay. This is what we’re gonna do.” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna shower and borrow something to sleep in. I’m gonna call Bruce at the Compound and tell him we have a bit of a situation, and at the ass crack of dawn, we’re driving out there to figure this out. But you’re gonna get some sleep before that.” He pushed himself off the ground, holding out a hand to help Peter from the ground.

Peter looked like he may have wanted to object, but Tony couldn’t tell if it was because of the Compound comment or otherwise. Instead, he just nodded and grabbed onto Tony, pulling himself up as well.

“Bathrooms upstairs, round the banister on your---”

“Left, yeah I know. The guest room next to Morgan’s okay?”

Tony gave a noise of approval but said little else. Peter hesitated for a moment, then made an awkward motion with his hands in the direction of the stairs. He gave Tony a strange, pressed smile and shrugged before turning and heading that way without another word.

So fucking weird.

Tony followed him a few minutes later. He hurriedly grabbed a few spare things from his own dresser, just something for the kid to sleep in---maybe they’d stop by a Target or something on their way to the facility---and he deposited them on the bed in the spare room for Peter to find when he was done in the bathroom. 

Tony got back to his room and closed the door, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

This was going to be trickier.

They were going to have questions, immediately. It wasn’t that Tony had completely removed them from his life, but their interactions were limited to Christmas cards and the occasional text to check in on how they were doing. Tony was pretty sure the last real conversation he’d had with Bruce was a few years ago when he’d offered to help him settle in at the Compound.

There had been plenty of maybes; plenty of “we should do dinner’s” and “maybe next month’s” but of course none of it ever came to be. They were all busy and had their own things, each of them trying to build a life out of the remnants of what used to be and sometimes the memories of what had come to pass were just too much to mend fully.

Tony had an odd sense of deja vu, staring at his phone, feeling like he was back on Bleeker with a wizard and a Hulk. He shook his head with a scoff and filtered through his contacts, pressing on Bruce’s name. It rang only twice before he answered.

“Tony,” Bruce greeted, sounding surprised. Which made sense, really, because it was nearly 2 in the morning at this point.

“Hey, Bruce. Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You...didn’t actually. We had…” Bruce paused. “Well, some of the scanners over midtown picked up a burst of abnormal energy. We’re working through it, I didn’t want to call you unless it looked like something but…”

Tony gave a dry chuckle. “Oh, it’s something alright. It’s taking a shower in my guest bathroom right now. But I can explain that better when we come up tomorrow.”

"You're coming to the Compound?" Another pause. “You’re bringing...someone with you?”

“I think this is just something that needs to be addressed in person, but yeah. I promise he’s not dangerous.”

“Tony, are you saying….that this was a person?”

“It’s Peter Parker,” Tony said bluntly. There was no reason to dance around it or be coy, aside from the fact that Bruce would surely think he was insane. He could hear Bruce on the other end take a deep sharp breath and hurried to fill in some blanks. “Look, I know you think I’m nuts, but it’s definitely some version of him. Says it has something to do with Wilson Fisk and that he’s from another Universe.”

There was a hesitant, resounding silence, and then, “Tony. Fisk is gone.”

“I _know_. And so is Peter. But I’m telling you, he’s in my second-floor shower right now and just had a goddamned seizure in my kitchen, and I need you to take a look at him.” He pounded the heel of his closed fist against the wooden doorway of his master bedroom and closed his eyes. “Bruce, I know what this sounds like. I’ve said it to myself a dozen times in the last hour, but it’s _him_. And there’s a whole lot more I can’t get into, and I’m sure there’s more even more than that we’ll find out in the next few days. You’ll see in the morning.” Tony heard the water turn off down the hall, and he sighed. “Look, I gotta go, he’s done and he might be able to hear. Just...is it alright if we come tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, I just…it’s a lot of information and not a lot of context, Tony.”

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, I _know_ , tell me about it. I about put a crowbar through his face when he was lurking around in my backyard, but it is what it is.” He looked at his wrist. “It’s a little after 2 now. I want to get some sleep, so I’ll plan on being on the road by around 8 and hopefully, we’ll see you close to 9:30. Sound good?”

“I’ll fill everyone in,” Bruce responded with a resigned sigh. “But Tony, you know...if there’s something he can tell us about Thanos, they’re gonna want to know?”

Tony bit back a groan. He wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t thought about it himself when Peter had told mentioned the Stones, and it didn’t surprise him that Bruce had immediately thought of that even without Tony bringing it up. It was only natural that Nat and Steve and Bruce would feel the same way, especially when none of them had the particular attachment to Peter that he did.

“How about this," He ground out. "How about we work on figuring out how to get him home and stabilize whatever the fuck is happening to him, and then we can talk about Thanos?”

“I’ll pass that on to the team.”

“Good.”

Tony didn’t wait for a further response. He ended the call, tossing the phone onto the bed in the middle of the room and rubbing his face. He waited in his room, for the sound of the guest room door clicking. He imagined that Peter would be getting changed into whatever Tony had laid out for him on the bed. He hoped it was alright; the pants were a light flannel and the shirt was just a plain white undershirt from a package of Hanes, but it would work, for now.

He hated this.

Well. He didn’t _hate_ this. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to be able to shelve this kid into a completely different place in his mind than the Peter he had lost but the truth was, this kid was a lot like the Peter he had lost. HIs smile and his laugh was the same, and there was a look that he got when the quiet settled in, an understanding he seemed to have when Tony got uncomfortable and it made Tony feel worse and vulnerable and all he wanted to do was tell him----

Tony had never told his Peter that he loved him. Tony wasn’t even sure he himself had realized it until right as Peter was fading away and then it was too late, and this kid, the way he looked at Tony…

That version of himself had apparently made sure the kid knew. Tony was pretty sure it was jealousy he was feeling, that they’d had that opportunity and he and his Peter had not.

Which was _dumb_. There was a lot Peter was being evasive about, and there was a reason for that, one Tony hoped came out sooner rather than later. He was already getting defensive of the boy, even on the phone, but he knew there was only so much he could do to protect him once they threw Natasha and Steve in the mix.

This was going to be their first lead in a very long time and while he knew they would try and be as gentle as they could, they were going to press. Once they found out for certain that Peter’s Universe had had their own Thanos?

They would be indomitable.

Tony shook his head, trying to clear that thought process. He walked out of his room, heading towards where Peter was going to be resting. He knocked gently, waiting for the kid to answer, and felt strangely relieved when Peter opened the door. The kid looked up at him with a shaky smile. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey. Just wanted to...make sure you got all situated. You able to find everything okay?”

Peter nodded. “It’s all….kind of where I remember it.” He opened the door wider and walked back over to the bed, sitting down near the footboard. “You talked to Dr. Banner then?”

“You hear all of that?”

Peter shook his head. “Just the end of it.” His eyes shifted back and forth and he looked down at the ground. “He sounded...nervous, about it.”

“I mean, can you blame him?” Tony asked. “Come on, kid, this is a curveball. There’s a lot of unknown variables, there’s a reason for him to be a little off balance, but that’s just natural.” Tony paused. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, and neither will they, okay? Once they talk to you, they’re gonna get right to work on getting you home.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” But Peter didn’t sound so sure.

“Either way, we gotta get some sleep. I wanna head out first thing in the morning. F.R.I.D.A.Ys gonna get us up around 7 or 8 and we’ll be out of here right away. You okay with that?”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Stark.” He looked back up at him. “Was Bruce mad?”

Dr. Banner to _Bruce_. The transition was seamless, and Tony realized the formality had been for his benefit---the Peter he knew hadn’t even met Bruce Banner.

Every time the kid talked, Tony felt like he had more questions.

“Like I said, buddy, just skeptical. It’s gonna be alright.” He cleared his throat. “So, are you…you’re good? You got everything you need, the pajamas feel alright?”

Peter grinned up at him from where he sat on the bed. “All good, Mr. Stark.” He tugged at a piece of string on the quilt he was sitting on. “Thank you...for helping me, by the way. I know this is...really bizarre, but... I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“You did the right thing,” Tony assured. “And it’s been…” _Painful, amazing, so fucking weird._ “Nice, to get to know you a little. I’m sure there’ll be more of that as we figure this all out.”

Again, Peter nodded. “I’ll try and get some sleep then if you will?” He peered up Tony, who gave him a look.

“You know me so well, Mr. Parker.” He winked at him, stepping back out of the doorway. “Scouts honor, I’ll do my best. F.R.I.D.A.Y will tell me if you don’t though. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow so I promise it’s for the best, alright?”

“Yeah, I know,” Peter inched up towards the top of the bed, pulling the covers back. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Stark. Thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, kid.” Tony grabbed the doorknob, fight the urge to ruffle the kid's hair. Because he wasn’t a child, not anymore; this Peter was in his 20s, a grown man and he certainly didn’t need to be treated like one.

With a reassuring smile, Tony closed the door behind him and headed back down the hall. God, he had to get a grip, especially before they went upstate. The last thing he needed was to snap in front of the team; that wouldn’t help any of them, especially Peter.

Because even if he might not be this time’s Peter, he was still _a_ Peter. A Peter that had his own version of Tony, and he felt this strange….responsibility to still look after him.

He was what his Peter might have become, but had never gotten the chance.

And Tony was gonna get him home.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun the next morning streamed in through the curtains of the spare room, and Peter squinted against it, still asleep, turning his head away from the wall. He rubbed at his face and sighed, slowly opening his eyes, acquiescing to the sun before the AI had its chance to set the alarm.

It took him a moment to even remember where he was. He laid in the bed for a few moments gathering himself, blinking the sleep away, his foggy mind trying to figure out how he’d ended up at Pepper’s when he was supposed to be in his own apartment, in New York, preparing for brunch with MJ and her mom in only a few hours.

It didn’t take long for the night before to come back to him. The men in black and the subway tunnels that had led to a cavern, the giant machine and the pulling sensation, and then---

Peter’s eyes shot open, breath catching in his chest. He pressed his hands into his hair, mind spinning for a moment. He pushed himself up slowly, rubbing at his eyes as he looked around the room. The bed felt the same but it was different; different bed set, different furniture, and paint, little things that set his Spider-sense tingling. He looked down at himself, drawing the covers back.

He was dressed in flannel sleep pants and a white shirt---

_\---Mr. Starks clothes---_

 

**_Mr. Stark_ **

 

His body went rigid and he fought a wave of nausea as his thought process came to an abrupt halt. He pulled the quilt up towards his chest, taking a deep breath. The fabric crumpled under his grip and he swallowed hard, once, then twice, trying to calm himself down.

God, last night was a blur.

Peter had been so relieved to be invited into the home, just thankful Mr. Stark hadn’t shot him where he’d stood, he hadn’t really considered much more. It’d been such a relief to see him in a moment of confusion, Peter wasn’t sure he’d had time to really think about the implications of it.

In the quiet of the guest room, it was different now

He could smell pancakes. The sun warmed the room and he could hear someone shuffling downstairs and he knew---his immediate instinct was to think of Pepper---he knew it was Tony. And he could not….

He blew out a heavy breath.

Peter didn’t know what to do now.

He frowned and pushed himself off the bed. He didn’t bother to change before slipping into the bathroom, because he was sure whatever Mr. Stark had given him was nicer than what he’d managed to grab from the stranger in the city. He closed the door behind him quietly, staring into the vanity mirror above a porcelain bowl that sat atop the vanity.

He just had to make sure he held it all together.   
  
Peter knew he didn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully, he was all kinds of numb to it right now. He knew he needed other people’s help to get home, he couldn’t do it by himself. So he knew if he was going to convince the Avengers that he was who he said he was, he had to keep a steady head. It felt like a checklist---do this, and that, and then maybe you’ll get home okay.

It was distracting enough, Peter told himself as he washed his hands and threw some cold water on his face. Every time he looked at Tony, he’d manage to let his eyes rest just to the side of him, not focusing on his expressions or his tone. It was a game of pretending, an exercise in fantasy, and he was able to tell himself,  _the second snap never happened, he’s still there,_  just for now.

“Hold it together,” He whispered to himself in the mirror. “Just until after you’ve figured this out.”

Peter could keep the charade up long enough, just until he got home. He could deal with it then, in the privacy of his own home, and he wouldn’t embarrass himself and cry like a child in front of them all.

He made his way down the stairs, still blinking away the sleep from a freshly washed face, rounding around the stairs into the kitchen, and forced back a laugh.

Tony Stark was standing in front of the stove with his back to Peter, an apron tied around his waist. Peter couldn’t wait to see what it had to say.

He made it a few steps into the kitchen before Tony looked over his shoulder, shooting him a tired smile. “Oh, you’re up.” He smiled awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Peter replied, shuffling into the kitchen. “It um...it smells...good?”

“Thanks. Had a lot of time to perfect my skills now that I’m retired.” He spun the spatula in his hand, pointing it at the dining room table. “Sit. I’ll make you a plate.”

Tony brought him a fully loaded platter a few minutes later, with eggs and pancakes and bacon. Peter looked up at the front of the apron, red with gold writing and an applique of Iron Man’s faceplate. He smirked at the older man.

“Iron Chef?”

Tony grinned. “Gift from Alton Brown forever ago, I don’t know. It works.” He placed the plate in front of him. “Dig in.”

Peter picked up the fork that he’d given him and slowly began to pick at the food. Tony joined him shortly and they ate in silence for a few moments before Tony spoke.

“Sleep okay?”

Peter nodded. “Yup.”

He hunched over the plate, keenly aware of Tony watching him, glancing up every few seconds, attempting to be casual about it. He didn’t know what to really say. He had spent the last few years day-dreaming of something just like this when he’d have a chance to talk to Tony again and to tell him everything he hadn't gotten a chance to when he was alive and now, here he was.

And Peter had nothing. Or rather, he didn’t have anything he thought he  _should_  say. Peter lifted his eyes only when he knew Tony was fixed on his own plate, by now having leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, one hand holding his cell phone and scrolling through emails.

It was Tony, but...not. This Tony was older---Peter had gotten to a point where he avoided thinking of the last time he'd seen his Mr. Stark if he could but now, he began to reach for it.

The fight with Thanos at the Compound had been overwhelming; a complete and utter mess, bodies tangled and stepping over one another but Peter had seen the metal suit go flying and he remembered how he’d just swung over without another thought to pick the man up, like it hadn’t been years since they’d seen each other because, for Peter, it hadn’t.

Now, he blinked. Tony’s hair had been sprinkled with gray like it was now, enough that Peter had noticed it at that moment, enough that he’d asked about it; because Tony had always been diligent about making sure it was touched up, so it was weird to Peter, that it hadn’t been then and wasn’t now, and his Tony had looked at him on the battlefield in such a way that it had made Peter feel naked and open and vulnerable---

“You alright?”

Now, in the kitchen of the cabin, this different-but-not-so-different Tony’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was watching Peter carefully, one brow slightly raised.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Peter forced a smile. “Just spaced out for a second.  How about you? You sleep well?”

Tony shrugged. “About usual. Got about a solid 4 hours, called Pep when I got up to let her know something's up,” He sat up straighter in his seat. “She says hello. I think she's a little confused, considering it was like 3 in the morning there but I'll fill her in more when we know more. She's probably gonna try and fly back but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Peter nodded. “That makes sense.” He tossed his fork down to signal he was done, but grabbed a piece of bacon and avoided Tony’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

He heard Tony shift forward; the table creaked as the man leaned on it and Peter could vividly imagine the thoughtful look on his face, trying to figure out what he may have meant. Peter didn't need to look up to know what that looked like, and his breath caught a little at how easily something like that came back to him

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, ruining Pepper’s vacation, and interrupting your time alone. I just...I know you’re kind of going out of the way for this, I’m sure you had other stuff planned to do…”

Tony grabbed a cloth napkin and wiped at his face. “Not out of the way at all kid. Shit happens and we have to fix it, that’s just the way it is. It’s not your fault, so don’t apologize, okay?” He paused, and Peter could feel there was something else he wanted to ask him and he braced for it. “You feeling okay? You think you’re gonna go Star Trek on me again?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I didn't really feel it before it happened last time, but no, I feel okay.” He hesitated, glancing up at the billionaire. “You...you think it might happen again?”

“Well, has it ever happened where you’re from?” Tony asked. “Unless it’s normal there, I’d assume it’s a symptom of you being displaced, so I think it’s probably reasonable to expect.” He sort of grimaced and shrugged. “That’s kind of why we gotta get on the road, Bruce will figure you out.”

Numbly, Peter nodded. He pushed the plate away, feeling a little nauseous. He'd fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, exhausted from the evening and whatever his body was doing, so he hadn’t really thought more about what had happened when he was sitting at the kitchen island. He fought a shiver at the prospect of another episode.

“I put some jeans and a few shirts on the bed. They’re gonna be a little big for you, but it’s what I got right now.” Tony offered with a jerk of his head towards the stairwell behind him. “Go ahead and choose what you want. There’s an outlet about halfway to the Compound that we’ll stop at on the way up. You may be here for a while and you can’t keep borrowing from people.”

Peter’s stiffened at his words.  _You may be here a while_ , and Peter thought back to last night when his body had felt like a piece of licorice being torn apart. He thought about May and MJ and Ned, and about how  _they weren’t here_  and felt as his heart began to race.

“You sure you’re okay, kid?”

Tony was standing now, a few feet from his seat, his own plate in hand and eyeing him warily. His free hand was clenched at his side as if he were holding himself back, and Peter realized that he was probably thinking about last night too, probably half expecting Peter to begin to fall apart at any moment. He shook his head.

“I’m...I’m fine, Mr. Stark, I just…” He managed a half grin. “I’m fine.”

Tony looked unconvinced, but he grabbed the plates. “Alright, well. Get going then. I’m gonna clean up here and then I want to be on the road in 10.”

* * *

“Aren’t alternate universes usually like…” Peter moved his hands around in a wonky sort of pattern in front of him. “Super different? How is ours really similar?”

“Alternate universes, kid, are  _theoretical_ ,” Tony condescended, granting him a tired side-eyed glance. “Or at least they were until you showed up. But that means, no one really knows how they work. And there’s no telling why you ended up in  _this_  one, as opposed to any of the theoretically infinite others that exist. You should count yourself lucky, really; I could’ve been a dog in another life.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark, that would be so amazing, I’ve always wanted a puppy!”

Tony kept his eyes on the road but made it very clear he was  _not_  amused.

* * *

 They pulled up to the Compound close to 10 am. Mr. Stark had sent the team a text to let them know when they were a couple of minutes out so Bruce would be ready to start right away. Peter watched as Tony grabbed the bags from the trunk, taking a couple himself to help. Mr. Stark, of course, had gotten a little carried away at the Outlet, buying Peter multiple outfits and some other things he deemed necessary, noting that he could get Peter a phone and other gadgets once they arrived at headquarters.

Walking up the steps of the Compound was an odd experience but Peter made sure to keep his expression steady. It had been rebuilt, of course, by the newly reincarnated S.H.I.E.L.D, led by Director Fury. They’d moved it a couple of hundred feet inland, away from the water. By the shore, they’d erected a monument, a tribute to the ones who’d been lost in the fight against Thanos. Tony and Natasha had been featured front and center, a memorial carved out of marble to withstand the elements and remind them all of how they now remained.

A woman was waiting for them just inside that Peter recognized from the times he’d come up to visit Mr. Stark before the Snap had occurred. She had always been really nice to him, helping him get settled into the room that had become his own. Now, her eyes bulged at the sight of him and he could hear her breathing quicken, could see how the Starkpad in her hands trembled.  

“Oh my god,” She whispered when she saw him. “Dr. Banner told me it was you, but I didn’t believe him, I didn’t…” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh my god,  _Peter_.”

“Hey Marianne,” Tony said with a small smile. “You mind seeing if you can get these bags to his old room? He can settle in later but we have an urgent meeting with Bruce…”

“Of course, of course,” She pulled away, tears in her eyes. She focused back on Peter. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have...but I just….”

“It’s okay.” Peter offered her a weak smile, sliding a look towards Tony. “Probably should get used to it, right?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe. This’ll be Bruce’s first time meeting you, though, so you better live up to all the stories we’ve told him about you.”

“You made me sound really cool, right?”

“Not at all.”

Of course, it wasn't  _Peter’s_  first time being around Bruce. Peter thought it was a little odd to see him now, though, considering both his arms were functional. His Bruce had minimal utility in his right arm as a result of the first snap that had brought everyone back and so Peter had grown accustomed to helping him in the lab, grabbing at things when Bruce needed his help.

This Dr. Banner didn’t seem to notice Peter’s strange expression when the Doctor gestured with the healthy appendage, or maybe he was just used odd looks and didn’t think anything of it. Bruce offered a reassuring smile, then held a hand out to the paper covered table behind him. “How about you hop on up and we can discuss what’s going on?”

It felt overly clinical. With Mr. Stark, Peter had fallen into some kind of cadence that was familiar---they had both been comfortable with their respective counterparts, so getting used to each other now wasn't a huge leap but this Bruce didn’t know Peter at all, and so it was very stiff and formal, and it made him self-conscious. He let Bruce conduct a basic exam, answering questions about himself that the other Bruce would usually tease him about ( _‘you run hot, kid, don’t tell me you haven’t used that to get out of class’_ ). He let Bruce take skin and blood samples, tried to give him the information he could when the doctor asked about what had happened to bring him to their universe.

“It’ll take a couple of hours to get the results, and without seeing what you described, I don’t know if I can make a complete diagnosis,” Bruce said, apologetic. “I think Steve wants a word while we wait.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m sure he does.” He let out a deep sigh and shot Peter a look. “You up for that kid, or would you rather take a break? You doing okay?”

“I’m ready when you are, boss.”

Tony’s mouth twitched, and Peter could see his tongue poke the inside of his cheek, holding back a laugh. Mr. Stark smirked, crossing his arms and jerking his head towards the door. “Okay then. Put your shirt on and let’s get going eh?”

Peter followed them down a hall, to what he knew had once been a kind of War Room. Bruce had told him, after the final fight, that Natasha had transformed it into some kind of Command Center, a place where everyone would report back periodically on their own assignments, a place where maps and alerts would signal to let the team know that something was amiss.

Peter had never really met the Black Widow. He’s sparred with her in Leipzig, but he’d never exchanged many words. He didn’t think she was really focused on him at the time, and so he didn’t expect her to know him at all.

He was wrong.

Peter entered the Command room behind Tony and Dr. Banner, who flanked him on both sides where he came to stop. Tension manifested almost immediately, and the hair on his arms and neck raised in alarm. Natasha and Steve turned from the spot where they stood, and on either side of them, holograms were being projected---Colonel Rhodes, Captain Marvel, Rocket and Nebula, Okoye. Their gazes fixed on him with a hint of wonder and surprise, as if they hadn’t really thought it was true, and he swallowed hard at the scrutiny.

“He...hey, everyone,” He said weakly, waving. “I’m Peter.”

“They know who you are, kid,” Tony replied humorlessly, walking towards his solid teammates. “Cap, Nat. How are you today?”

“Better now that you’re here,” Natasha replied, but her eyes didn’t leave Peter. She surveyed him like an unknown variable, and he supposed that made sense; they couldn’t know if he was legitimate or some kind of trick of an unknown villain, a mole that would strike them another debilitating blow.

“I know this is crazy, but I am...me,” Peter offered softly. He looked back at Bruce. “Dr. Banner’s exam will prove it, but I understand if you guys don’t trust me until then.”

Tony and Steve exchanged an inscrutable look for a moment, and Tony moved back towards him, positioning himself in front of Peter. “No one thinks that kid.”

Peter knew it was a lie. A small, younger part of himself was grateful for it; grateful for a familiar, long ago comfort of being protected and lied to in order to accomplish that, and he almost laughed at how absurd it was that he was now relishing the thing he’d railed against as a teen.

God, it ached when he breathed, how he missed it. 

He’d missed it so much.

Natasha and Steve were less convincing, but there was a comfort there as well. Peter had grown a lot in three years, he’d become more self-sufficient, and he could handle them and their doubts. It was only natural and he’d probably have been skeptical if they had believed him outright.

Steve motioned towards a chair and Peter took it, Tony following a few paces behind and settling at Steve’s side. Bruce stood closer to the door of the Command center while Natasha took up space behind a glass desk. The gazes from the holograms bored into him.

Tony started off explaining what had happened the night before. He nodded to Peter to provide the details---the Subway from Peter’s time, the machine, how he had been pulled from his own timeline and into theirs.

Tony had looked away from Peter when he described what had happened in the kitchen the night before; when Peter had appeared to turn translucent, transitioning between states of matter, writhing in pain.

“I mean, but what you’re describing,” Bruce followed up almost as soon as Tony finished, shaking his head. “The machine alone, it sounds...massive. And complicated, at the very least. We may be able to figure out the math, but the implementation…” His expression was grim, and he rubbed at his neck, clearly trying not to be the contrarian in the room. “But time…”

“Well yeah, but something like this…” Peter shook his head. “Fisk would’ve had to have been working on it before we all got dusted. There’s no way this just took him 3 years to throw together, especially with how crazy it was for a while there when we all got back…”

Peter had never understood how silence could be loud. He’d heard the expression before but had always thought it to be nonsense, but with the looks, the team in front of him fixed upon him, he realized he’d said the wrong thing.

His eyes darted over to where Tony stood, now rigid at Steve Roger’s side, realizing he’d left out a key detail.

“You...were one of the Vanished in your timeline?” Nat asked, her tone low and even. “You came back from the Snap?”

“Yeah, Pete,” Tony chimed in sharply, clearly unhappy. Peter felt pinned under his stare, felt the heat rise on his face. “Seems like you left a little something out last night when you were telling me about all of this.”

“You asked me about what happened to me to get here, you didn’t really ask about Thanos…”

A hiss filled the air as almost everyone took a sharp breath at the name.

Almost everyone, but not Tony. Tony, whose expression was like a storm, growing darker by the second.

“I would have thought that would have been an implicit part to bring up!”

“What does Thanos have to do with anything when I’m just trying to get home?”

“Well, considering the guy whose device brought you here was one of the people dusted by him, I would think that would make it pretty freakin’ relevant---”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice interrupted Tony’s angry rebuttal, and he put a hand up to stop the mechanic in his path. “Peter, you have a point but the truth is, we need to know everything about how this happened to get you home safe. That’s the most important thing here. We’re gonna send S.H.I.E.L.D agents to Fisk’s offices and home in Manhattan and we’re sending a team to the subway system to investigate the area you said you were patrolling when this happened, but we need to know what you can tell us about Thanos.”

Peter looked over towards Tony, who was still clearly upset about the whole thing. He let his gaze jump to Natasha, who looked…

Sad. She looked sad, and still sort of desperate and hopeful, and Peter sighed.

“Thor killed Thanos a few weeks after the Snap. That’s what I know about Thanos.”

Steve’s brow wrinkled. “But you said you were one of the Vanished. So...at some point, someone figured out how to undo it. How did that happen?”

Peter watched them, let his eyes sweep the room. He saw Nat and Steve and Bruce, saw Tony glowering at him, saw the projections with Rhodey and Carol, Rocket and Nebula and Okoye, who were listening intently. Then, he realized he’d overlooked someone.

Peter’s voice pitched high. “Where’s Scott Lang?”

Natasha and Steve exchanged a confused look.

“Scott Lang was one of the Vanished, Peter,” Steve explained slowly. “I guess that didn’t happen in your universe, but he’s gone. Him, and Hank Pym and Hope and Janet...”

Peter’s mouth went dry. He’d heard the story a bunch of times. Mr. Lang and Bruce loved to joke about how a goddamned rodent had been the one to really save the Universe---

 

_(only once around him, though, because Peter had snapped and told them it was Tony, it was always Tony who saved them all, and they’d looked at him weird and kind of sad, and never said it again.)_

 

\---and he distantly remembered seeing the grainy footage from an impound lot where Lang’s things had been stored with all the other discarded garbage and….

“There was no rat,” Peter whispered. “You didn’t...he didn’t…” The realization washed over him, making his stomach turn over and he pitched forward, grabbing his kneecaps with his hands. “Oh my god, he’s still in the Quantum Realm.”

“What?” Tony asked, completely bewildered. “That Quantum realm? That’s not…”

“It is.” Peter cut him off, rising to his feet. “Dr. Pym and Mr. Lang were running an experiment, with Ms. Van Dyne and her mom and---” He shook his head, trying to keep everything straight as his mind began to spin, overwhelmed by what this all meant. “They vanished, but Mr. Lang, he was in the Quantum Realm, he was stuck there. But in my Universe, after about five years, he got out. But it hadn’t been that long for him? It’s really kind of hard to believe if you don’t see it…”

“Kid,” Tony interrupted, walking towards him with his hands up. Peter's head swung towards him, and he could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. Mr. Stark didn't look mad anymore, at least, but he seemed worried, and he was looking at Peter the way someone looked at someone when they thought they were talking nonsense. He placed a gentle hand on Peter’s arm, guiding him back a few steps to the chair he’d been in and pushed him gently back onto the seat. “Take a deep breath, slow down. You’re not making any sense, let’s get this straight now…”

It got Peter’s attention. Somewhere in his rambling explanation, he’d zoned out, staring off at nothing as he tried to remember the details of what had brought their return to bear, but now Tony was in front of him again, hands up to stop him, to redirect him, to guide him….

To guide him.

Peter’s focus sharpened, and it overwhelmed him.

Tony was here.

Tony was looking at him, eyes soft and concerned, bending down. “That’s it. Steady, just breathe. Now. What do you mean, stuck there?”

 

_Tony was here._

 

Peter had been able to pretend. He’d been pretending, for the last 12 hours, that this was just a fantasy come to life, a dream he had too many times before, where Tony wasn’t dead and all of what had happened after Bruce brought them back was a nightmare. He’d been able to convince himself that he could go through these motions and that it could remain a dream, but Tony’s hand was warm where it rested on his arm and Peter was telling them everything and it was real.

Tony---his Tony---was still gone. And Peter wasn't supposed to be here but now he was, and he had to get home. And to do that he had to have their help.

And he'd have to leave all of this behind.

Peter’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Scott Lang was gone. He didn’t exist here, they’d never undone the Snap and saved everyone, Tony had never had to---

Peter killed the thought before his brain could speak it to him, and he swallowed hard. “Um…” He rubbed his cheek, blinking away the burn behind his eyes. “Can I have some water?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab you something,” Bruce said, hurrying away. Tony’s brow knitted, squatting down in front of him.

“You feel okay? You getting ready to...you know...?” He made a wavy motion with his hands.

“I don’t think so, I just need to,” Peter glanced up at Natasha and Steve, both staring at him intensely. “I just need a second to get it all together.”

Tony stood up behind him, wrapping both hands around the back of the chair. “Stop looking at him like this is an interrogation.”

“It’s not an interrogation,” Steve responded, forcefully soft. He and Natasha were clearly restraining themselves, wanting to push him and ask him more questions and get the answers, but Peter…

He just needed a minute.

He looked up at Tony, standing above him, to see the man looking down at him intensely; protectively, and Peter sank back in his seat, letting Tony tower over him. He rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of support. 

“You mentioned a rat,” Natasha said. “What does a rat have to do with any of it?”

Peter blinked a few times. Bruce came back with the water and Peter took it with thanks, sheepishly smiling around the room. Some of their expressions had softened, most notably from the hologram of Colonel Rhodes, whose gaze notably shifted between Peter and Mr. Stark equally.

He was checking on his best friend, Peter realized, to see how Tony was doing with all of this. For the first time, Peter considered that maybe this wasn’t that easy for Tony either, and he craned his neck back around to glance at the man.

“You’re good, Pete. Don’t rush. Just...tell them what you feel comfortable telling them.”

He nodded, sipping at his water one more time before starting. Peter found it simple once he began; he explained how long it had been before Scott had emerged from the Quantum Realm. He explained how Mr. Stark had figured out time travel and the plans behind the Time Heist (as much as he understood it himself) and he told them how Dr. Banner had snapped everyone back into existence.

And he’d stopped there, for now. A silence had fallen over the room. Natasha and Steve were looking at each other, clearly skeptical over the simplicity in which he’d explained it.

“And that’s it?” Bruce sputtered, clearly unconvinced. “Tony, just... _discovers time travel_ \--"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Tony quipped.

"---and then we all... _traveled through time_ ,” Bruce continued, growing more heated in his disbelief. “And stole the stones and brought everyone back, without anything going wrong?”

Peter didn’t know how to respond. He looked up to Tony, then over at the line of holograms, briefly settling on Nebula. He didn’t want to get into the complications that he’d heard about of her past self’s treachery, or how this future version had had to strike her down. It was painful and too much, and when he looked back at Mr. Stark, he didn’t want to deliver  _that_  news in front of everyone either; it felt awkward, to tell someone they had sacrificed themselves to save the whole Universe, in front of a room of people, too big of a thing.

But Peter would if he had to; if he could save Mr. Stark, he would tell them anything.

Eventually.

Instead, at Bruce’s question, he shrugged. “I mean, I was still gone. All I know is what your counterparts told me.”

At that, Bruce’s expression twitched. “This isn’t the first time you and I have met.”

Peter shook his head. “Nope. We’re pretty good friends where I’m from.”

Bruce’s expression was unreadable, but a small smile made its way to his lips. “You know, somehow, I kind of believe that.”

“I think that’s enough for right now,” Tony chimed in. “Peter, how about you take five and Bruce and I will go check on those test?” His gaze was pointed and Peter knew it wasn’t a suggestion. “This has been a lot, for all of us. There’s a lot to consider.”

Peter noticed Tony wasn’t looking at him though; he was staring at Steve Rogers, who was watching Peter with a blank look on his face. Tony seemed worried, but Peter wasn’t sure whatever for, so he nodded and pushed himself to a standing position.

“I am...I am a little tired,” He began weakly. He turned back towards the holograms, Natasha and Steve, and smiled again. “It was nice seeing all of you though. I hope I helped. If not, I’m sorry…”

Rhodes piped in from behind them all, a smile on his face. “Pete, you’re fine buddy. Go rest. We got this.”

Peter’s gaze roamed over the other heroes in the room. Tony and Bruce were smiling at him, but they were different types of smiles; Bruce, obviously trying to be placating and calming, and Tony’s was tight and uncomfortable. When he glanced at Steve and Natasha, Peter could tell they were attempting to be unfailingly polite, though they surely wanted even more.

“I’ll come to find you later,” Tony promised, nodding towards the door. “We’ll have more information for you by then.”

They wanted to talk about it without him around. Peter knew what it was like when adults were trying to get you to leave so they could talk about you. He wanted to object and insist he was fine, that he was almost 20 years old and he should be included but the truth was, talking about Thanos and what had happened with the Snap was always hard. Instead of arguing, he only nodded and offered one last wave before heading out of the room and down the hall towards a room he’d not slept in a year, yet had used so many times before.

* * *

 Tony waited a few moments until the door closed behind Peter, knowing the younger man’s hearing was as enhanced as anything else about him. He spun on his heel, a finger pointing sharply at Steve.

“You stay away from him. Give him a few days, at least, alright? He’s scared and he’s alone and maybe you can’t tell but I can, and he’s freaking out.” Tony was scowling, mouth twisted in a grimace. He let his arm drop, eyes shifting towards Bruce. “I’m going to the lab. Hopefully, those tests are going to be done soon. But I swear,” and he swiveled back to the rest of the group. “You give him some space or I’ll evict you, and that’s a promise.”

Without another word, he stalked out of the Command room, the door banging shut behind him.

Bruce moved to follow Tony when he left, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to find Steve, hand on his bicep, looking at him pointedly.

“Steve, I gotta go help Tony with the results. I promised him I’d help figure out what was going on with the kid.”

“It can wait for a second,” Steve replied, nodding at the door to the Command room. “Close the door.”

Bruce eyed him warily, watching as Steve turned away from him and addressed the holograms.

“Rhodes,” Steve started. “Gather a team and go to San Francisco. Sweep every impound lot you can find until you locate that van and see if you can figure out what a rat apparently accidentally stumbled on.”

Rhodes glanced at Bruce for a moment before finding Steve again and nodded. “You got it. I’ll keep you guys posted.” And his hologram faded to a close. The others looked between the others, then did the same, leaving Natasha and Steve and Bruce alone.

“Steve,” Bruce began slowly. “I promised Tony we’d figure out a way to get Peter back first.”

“Well, things change. Tony is distracted,” Steve said firmly. “And I understand that. But if this is what happened to Scott, we can get  _him_  back now at least, and then maybe…”

He trailed off, looking over at Natasha, whose expression was much more naked than his own. It had been so long since they’d even had a reason to hope, years since there had been theories or leads across galaxies and suddenly now, it had seemingly dropped in their lap---evidence of a solution that had been successful, one of dusted, returned, apparently unscathed.

It was too important to ignore.

Tony would have to just deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring and Summer is so crazy to me, but i really love this story and it'll keep getting updated when i get the chance, as will my other biodad WIP. thanks everyone for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's test results come back. Rhodey goes to San-Francisco, and Peter and Natasha talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a little bit more of the build-up, but I think the next couple chapters are gonna be eventful for you guys. As always, thanks everyone who's reading! 
> 
> A note of reminder: this is very much taking a lot of stuff from Into the Spiderverse, so if you haven't seen it, you may be a little lost. (if you haven't seen it yet, go, now; it's so so good)

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

 

Bruce’s question pulled Tony from a haze of thought. They were currently in the kitchenette area, seated around a table picking at a snack. Peter had gone to take a nap at Tony’s request, one he’d scowled about and rolled his eyes, but done it all the same. Tony and Bruce were alone, picking at their food; the latter was scrolling through a StarkPad, waiting for T.A.D.A.S.H.I to deliver results from the tests they’d conducted earlier.

 

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” Tony began, plucking a piece of turkey from his sandwich, snapping at it with his teeth. “Do you mean the fact that a member of our team has been allegedly stuck in a theoretical vortex for 8 years, which may only translate to 8 hours for him, or the fact that some version of a kid who was murdered by a crazy purple Titan is sleeping down the hall because he’s from another dimension? Or the fact that said kid has some kind of affliction that causes him to go all fuzzy from time to time, something we’re still trying to figure out? There’s kind of a lot, you know.”

 

Bruce didn’t seem to find the same dark humor in it Tony had. “I mean, Peter. Just himself.”

 

“You didn’t know him before.”

 

“But I know how you talked about him.” Bruce paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “It was clear you thought an awful lot of him.”

 

What an understatement. Tony looked at him critically and rolled his eyes. Bruce could be so diplomatic, it was infuriating. Instead of just saying what he meant, he could sometimes be so placating to try and keep the peace it would just be a prelude to an explosion down the road. 

 

“How could it not be extremely weird, Bruce?” Tony asked. “He’s older than he was when he disappeared. But not as old as he should be.” He snorted. “God, I should have _noticed that_. Why didn’t I flag that when he first showed up?”   


 

“Um. Because when someone you love comes back from the dead, it’s probably not common to question it right away.”

 

Tony’s eyes snapped towards him. “I don’t _love_ him. He’s a kid who we were looking out for. He’s an important part of the team, just like anyone else, and----”

 

Bruce was looking at him like he was pathetic.

 

“Who else knows?”

 

“Everyone.” Bruce sort of grinned. “Tony, you should see your face when you’ve talked about him. It’s so obvious.”

 

Tony didn’t say anything for a few still moments. “I’ve just missed him so damn much, Bruce. And this isn’t like...my, Peter, you know? But he’s so much like him, so much like who I thought he’d be but like….better?” Tony’s face screwed up in a mournful smile. “And with what he’s telling us, we could get them back too. I can save _both_ of them, so forgive me if I seem a little eager.”

 

“I don’t think anyone’s judging you for that, Tony.”

 

Tony smiled a little, and then there was a shift. A curtain that fell over his expression and he sat up straighter. “You like him though too, I can tell. You think he’s smart.”

 

“He’s at the very least aware, seems to track pretty well.” Bruce acknowledged. “And anyone who earns your praise has earned it, I know that much.”

 

Tony shrugged and took a full bite of his sandwich. If either of the men had anything further, the words died in their throats; the StarkPad lit up, a sharp ping drawing their attention. Tony hurried to swallow whatever was in his mouth and reached for the tablet but Bruce was closer and less distracted. He grabbed at the device, unlocking the interface with a P.I.N. 

 

“Results are in.” He confirmed, scrolling up through the form. He frowned, grabbing the tablet with both hands and drawing it closer, skimming the results. 

 

“Well?? Give it to me!”

 

Bruce yanked it just out of reach once more. “I haven’t even had a chance to really get into this, just let me read it first.” He pushed himself up from the table and walked with the tablet towards the refrigerator, skimming the information as he grabbed a bottle of water and walked back over. 

 

Tony’s stomach turned at the expression on Bruce’s face. 

 

It wasn’t getting any brighter. 

 

“It’s bad,” Tony began softly. “You’re trying to figure out how to tell me how bad, but it’s bad, right?”

 

Bruce sighed, sliding the pad onto the table towards him. “Doesn’t seem great, at least. I know he has some healing factor and an increased metabolism but what it looks like, is that his cells are experiencing a rapid decaying process, multiple times what is normal. I think the healing factor is probably slowing it down but…” He pressed his lips together. “It will happen again. And again, just maybe not super close together, but eventually---”

 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Tony snapped. He looked up at his friend sharply. “How long?”

 

Bruce shrugged, looking incredibly lost. “Honestly, I think we’re just gonna have to monitor him. I suspect as the episodes recur we’ll get a better idea based on the severity. My assumption is that it will be a kind of snowball effect---the more often it happens, the close together they will be and the greater the severity.”

 

“And it hurts him.” 

 

“I would imagine that it doesn’t tickle, yeah.”

 

Tony pursed his lips, eyes glancing upward as he called out to the Compound’s AI. "T.A.D, is the kid still asleep?"

 

"Yes, Mr. Stark. My readings indicated he is in the middle of a R.E.M cycle and barring interruptions, will probably be so for a few hours."

 

“Good. He needs it. Give us a heads up if he goes all haywire on us.” Tony looked over at Bruce with a sigh. "You up for some problem-solving?"

 

"I don't have anything better to do."

 

“That’s the spirit!” Tony rose to his feet, slapping Bruce on the arm as he passed by him. “T.A.D.A.S.H.I., send that report to Cap with a summary of what it means and tell him to send me any intel on what they were able to find at Fisk’s that may help us get started on figuring out a way to send Peter home.”

 

“Affirmative, sir.”

 

Bruce was still reading through the tablet, brow furrowed. It was comical to Tony, now that Bruce was this amalgamation of his human and Hulk self. A symbiotic truce that had been made, forged out of necessity, but Tony hadn’t been there for that, nor any of the time after.

 

They had lost. And Tony had given up because there didn’t seem to be a way to fix it and if there was anything Tony hated the most, it was having to accept there wasn’t anything he could do.

 

But now he could.

 

“Hey, Strongest Avenger, you wanna catch up?” Tony appealed, grinning halfway from his spot in the doorway. “We got a lot of work to do, and I’m gonna need some help.”

 

Bruce, to his credit, rolled his eyes; he could have outright rejected, could have told Tony to figure it out on his own because he’d decided to go MIA for so long but he didn’t. Instead, he tucked the Pad under his arm with a nod and straightened from the place he stood in the kitchen.

 

“Let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

Rhodes had just about given up when they’d gotten to the southwest side of San Francisco.

 

It was a warm day. He was surrounded by a team of 5 other agents and they’d checked almost a dozen of impound lots so far today and they hadn’t found anything remotely close to what Peter had explained. Quite frankly, the explanation had sounded absurd to the man. Aside from the fact that it was hard enough to believe that other dimensions existed, the idea that the kid had ended up here was…

 

Farfetched, to say the least. 

 

But. He was something, that was for sure. He certainly looked like the kid Tony had been doting on in the couple of years before the snap, and there had been a seriousness behind his eyes, something that just told him this kid had seen some shit. What that was remained to be seen, and until then, Rhodes was relegated to digging around in junkyards, trying to make sense of what seemed a little too sci-fi, even for them.

 

Until---

 

“Colonel Rhodes?” An agent's voice cut across the grimy air of the impound lot, a flashlight shining in the distance. “I think I may have found something.”

 

He and the remaining agents turned towards the source. It was across the warehouse, piles of junk and what looked to be garbage segregated off by chain-link cages. His legs whirred beneath him as they carried him closer to what looked to be some crappy van from the 70s, agents flanking behind him on both sides. As he came to a stop, he spied a sloppily written name hanging by a tag at the mouth of the cage.

 

_ LANG _

 

A whoosh of air left his lungs. Rhodey looked up at the agent who had called him over, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail. She nodded towards the dash of the vehicle and he noticed for the first time that there seemed to be a control panel resting there. 

 

“You able to figure out how it works?”

 

“Appears simple enough,” She replied calmly. “But there’s no telling what will happen, if at all. This heap’s been here for 8 years, it might be completely dead.”

 

“But it might not.”

 

“No. It might not.” She looked at him, expression full of cautious hope. “Should we wait for the engineers to show up or…”

 

“No.” Rhodey shook his head, ambling up next to her. “They’ll have to send someone from a local office and I don’t really want to get any more people involved than necessary. Plus, it’ll take forever.” He nodded towards it. “How about I just give it a go? The kid said a rat running across it was enough to trigger it.” He looked out at the other agents. “Everyone clear out, set up a perimeter around the building. No one gets in or out until we try this and see what happens.”

 

“And you sir?” 

 

“I’ll be fine with the armor I’ve got. But if this goes sideways, I don’t want anyone hurt. I’ll maintain radio contact and let you know how it goes, okay?”

 

“Yes, sir.” And she turned away immediately, motioning for the others to back away from the cage. Rhodey waited until he figured they were far enough back, then leaned into the van to check out the control panel.

 

It looked pretty old, something similar to an old Atari control. Buttons and toggle switches, he frowned as he tried to figure out how to turn something on without knowing what each one would do. He thought about some rat, randomly crawling across this space and happening to hit just what it needed to trigger the machine, how one in a million the odds of that had to be and figured----

 

“Here goes nothing.”

 

He pressed one of the colored buttons and waited. When nothing happened, he played with one of the switches.

 

Nothing again. 

 

His stomach churned with disappointment. He winced at the idea of calling back to the Compound, having to look at Steve and Natasha and tell them, no dice, looks like the rat isn’t the only difference. He slapped lightly at the dashboard, jostling the control panel and reaching out to catch it when it slipped from the vinyl covering.

 

Inadvertently smashing a couple of the buttons at once.

 

It took only a second or so for it to register but it felt like a lifetime. Deep inside the belly of the van, he heard a rustling, the whirr of some kind of engine. The vehicle began to sway, then rock more gently, growing steadier and steadier, and he grabbed the control panel and pulled himself away. The mask reassembled around his head, preparing for an explosion. 

 

There was a puff of smoke out of the back at the rear doors flew open and a crash as something flew into the side of the cage’s fencing, a mess of random items falling down and being displaced. 

 

No. Not something, he realized, cautiously walking around the perimeter of the van to take a look.

 

Someone.

 

“Oh my God,” Rhodey whispered. 

 

“Colonel Rhodes?” The agent from a few minutes earlier crackled over his comms. “Sir, Colonel Rhodes, do you need assistance? We heard a noise---”

 

“Stand down, for now, let me check but I think…” He swallowed hard. “Agent Stevens, please call the nearest field office and have them prep for medical. I think...I think this might be something.”

 

As if in response, he heard a groan. “Hank...Hank, do you have any orange slices? I feel like I've been hit with a truck.”

 

Rhodey watched, dumbfounded as the man pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He was clearly disoriented, not even taking in his surroundings, but Rhodey recognized the suit from Germany, recognized the man’s side profile clear as day from the reports of the Vanished. 

 

Jesus Christ. The kid was right. 

 

Peter was right.

 

The kid really was Peter Parker, which meant…

 

The idea that the kid was from another dimension was almost too much for Rhodes to contemplate, so he decided to shelve it for later after all of this calmed down. The sheer implication of what this could mean was too overwhelming, and he knew that Steve and Nat were going to absolutely hit the roof and that this would be the start of something significant, but right now, at this moment---

 

Rhodey had to deal with this, now. He had to tell Scott Lang about everything; Thanos, the Snap---

 

The fact that the man had lost 8 years of his life.

 

“Colonel Rhodes?” Scott gaped up at him from his place against the fence, finally noticing he wasn't alone. His eyes darted around, widening in a panic. “Wait---where are we? Why are we inside?” He swung his head back in forth. “Where are Hank and Hope and Janet?”

 

Rhodey held up his hands. “Mr. Lang, it’s understandable that you’re a little confused. We have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

 

“I’ll say,” He made a few shaky steps towards Rhodes, resting a hand on the van to steady himself. “I was in there for hours, which was _not_ part of the plan.” He looked around again as if searching for something, brow raised, and spoke louder. “Haha, by the way, Hank, very funny.”   
  


“Mr. Lang, Dr. Pym and the rest of his family aren’t here anymore.”

 

Scott redirected his gaze to Rhodey, quickly sobering. Whether that was because Rhodey sounded so serious, or because he was finally realizing that War Machine was here in an official capacity, Rhodey couldn’t know. Scott held up a hand and began to twitch with anxiety. 

 

“Look, I know what happened a few weeks ago technically was a violation of my probation, but they can’t prove---”

 

“Scott!” Rhodey interrupted firmly. “This has nothing to do with that, I promise.” The faceplate of the armor slipped back so he could look at Lang face to face. “There’s something else, something...bad. There’s a lot I need to tell you, but we’re gonna take you to one of the nearby field offices to debrief you.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s been going on then.”

 

“You said you were in there for hours.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Rhodey’s mouth parted. “Scott…time, apparently, moves different, wherever you were. You haven’t been gone for 8 hours.”

 

Rhodey could see a realization settling in, and he supposed it was probably because Scott could see how hard this was to say. 

 

“How long?”

 

The question was almost a whisper, his face suddenly ashen. Scott’s entire body stiffened, suddenly aware that this was serious, and he was bracing himself for something terrible. There was no way to sugarcoat this, Rhodey knew, but he softened, all the same, trying to make it as easy as possible.    
  


“Scott, you’ve been gone 8 years. It’s been 8 years.”

 

* * *

 

It was almost dusk when Peter woke up. _Slept the day away_ , he thought to himself, suddenly embarrassed. He’d slept the few hours in the early morning when he’d gotten to Tony’s cabin, but the talk in the Compound’s command center had left him drained, along with what he assumed was probably some side effect from jumping into another reality. 

 

Peter wandered out of his room to a window overlooking the river. He thought of how the Compound was rebuilt in his timeline, further inland, away from the water. He stared at a spot by the side of the water, though, where a memorial had been erected, visages of fallen heroes immortalized in stone for all time. 

 

He didn’t have much time to himself before he heard soft footsteps behind him. Peter assumed as much; he was sure that the AI probably alerted Tony and the others when he was up. It was understandable---he was virtually a stranger to them, a familiar interloper of worlds and while Tony seemed to absolutely trust him, he might have been the only one.

 

“Do you feel better after your nap?”

 

Peter didn’t need to hear her voice to know it was Natasha behind him. He crossed his arms with a sigh but didn’t turn around. She ended up beside him, looking out at the water as well.

 

“It was nice. I think I needed it after today. Did you guys find anything out?”

 

“We got some stuff on Fisk, good stuff we think might be able to use to get you home. I’ll save the details for Tony to ramble about.” She paused, giving him an opportunity to chime in; when he didn’t she continued to fill the silence. “Rogers is having Rhodes head to San Francisco to do some recon on Lang. I thought you might like to know.”

 

Peter relaxed at that, this time sighing with relief. “Good. Good, I hope they find something. I hope it’s the same, Mr. Lang deserves that.” He paused as if expecting her to add to it. When she didn’t he slid his gaze to the side, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “How’d you draw the short straw?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“I _mean_ ,” Peter turned a little towards her. “What did you do to get chosen to come to check on me?”

 

The corner of her mouth quirked a bit at that. “I volunteered.”

 

He hummed back without saying anything, looking down at the ground. 

 

_Interesting_ , she thought and continued. “You don’t know me.” It was a drab observation, but the corners of her mouth curled into a small smile. “I can tell, by the way, you looked at me when you walked in this morning. I guess that means I did something incredibly stupid or incredibly brave.”

 

Peter didn’t offer an explanation, nor did he explicitly confirm or deny it. He looked back out the window, back out at the bay. “If you talk to Bruce or Clint, they’d tell you it was a little bit of both.”

 

She tilted her head. “You know Barton?” She bit back a smile. “You’re on a first-name basis with Barton?”

 

“He comes to the Compound with the family sometimes. We always have an annual barbecue thing to celebrate the anniversary of everyone coming back.” He looked over at her again. “The Blip is what the media coined it, where I'm from. I know, it’s pretty fucking stupid but,” He shrugged. “It stuck.”

 

“The Blip,” She said with a dry laugh. “Better than not having anything to celebrate at all, though.”

 

He winced. “I guess you’re right. Sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize. This has got to be bizarre for you.” She paused for a moment. “Might help if we knew more though.”

 

“You will," He allowed. "I'll answer all your questions, I promise." He looked back at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "You’re gonna need Barton. I’ll say that, at least. That’s gonna take you some time, I’d guess, considering what he’s been up to.”

 

He disarmed her with that. She didn’t react too much, but her brow arched and she stood a little taller, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You know about that.”

 

He finally looked up at her. “I know a lot of things. All I'll be willing to share with everyone.” He bit his lip. “It just...didn't feel like the right time, earlier.”

 

She watched him for a few moments. He felt truly judged for the first time since he’d arrived. Mr. Stark had told him once about how the Widow had been in charge of taking him apart and examining him to see if he’d fit with the Avengers, that he had been “ _not recommended_ ” for membership. At the time, it had seemed impossible---the idea of the Avengers ever existing without Tony Stark seemed absurd but now, under her scrutiny, it could understand how the Widow was the person to do that. He shifted and looked away once more. 

 

“You’re not on trial here, Peter,”  She said softly. “And we’re all doing what we can to get you home. But they found Lang. We’ll brief you on that when you join us, but we are going to try and fix this, with or without your help. Whatever it takes.”   
  


His head snapped up. “You don’t understand what that _means_.”

 

“We all fought Thanos once, but he’s gone now. The time thing seems complicated, but if you managed it---”

 

Peter laughed, surprising her. It was dark and heavy, and a change from everything she’d ever heard about him. He looked up at her, gaze lidded. “You have no idea what you’re about to unleash. How wrong things go---” 

 

He was getting agitated. Natasha could hear the tremble in his voice, see his limbs twitching and shaking. She shifted into a more comfortable position, trying to make herself appear more relaxed, less of a threat when…

 

Peter stopped mid-sentence, jaw clenching, the muscles and veins of his neck popping out. His hands clenched into fists at his side and then…

 

He started... _shifting_.

 

It was the closest way Natasha could think to describe it, watching on in horror. His entire body was shaking, vibrating at different speeds; Tony had described something like this happening at his house the night before, but seeing it up close and personal was a completely different situation and immediately Natasha held out her hand, trying to figure out a way to make it stop. 

 

“Peter,” She kept her voice steady. “Peter, it’s alright, you’re alright, I’m going to, we’re gonna get you to medical, I promise…”

 

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it seemed to fade. Peter’s fists unclenched and his muscles began to relax, just in time for his eyes to roll all the way back in his head as his knees buckled and his body collapsed towards the ground.

 

Natasha slid onto her knees, catching him so that his head didn’t smack onto the floor. She stared down at the boy, who now seemed so much younger, and brushed the hair from his forehead. His skin was clammy and cold, and she realized, with increasing alarm, that he wasn’t breathing. She threw back her head and yelled at the ceiling. 

 

“T.A.D.A.S.H.I, alert medical and get someone to help me with him, now!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *added after posting* I made some edits to this as someone pointed out an inconsistency with an older chapter that I missed during my review. Shouldn't be too glaring either way, but thank you anon for that! :)
> 
> i liiiiiiiiive
> 
> work was terrible the past 6 months---so much so that I QUIT and got a new job, which means I'm a little less stressed and able to write, and here I am! terribly sorry to the delay, but thank you so much, especially to a couple of people who have touched base and asked if this was DOA; it helped me really kind of push past a block I had. 
> 
> anyway. disclaimer. LOTS & LOTS of handwavy science stuff here; I haven't had biology (or other science class even) in much longer than I'd care to admit so if you are a science person and you see something particularly egregious please do not hesitate to correct me!

“Mr. Stark, this is unnecessary.”

 

Tony wasn’t sure that was such a great argument, considering where Peter was currently sitting.

 

Propped up in a hospital bed, wires connected to electrodes stuck to his forehead and an IV in his arm, it struck Tony as all very necessary, actually. Peter seemed a little embarrassed and also completely exasperated, the way a child would be if someone was being too overbearing. 

 

Well, Tony thought. Guilty as charged.

 

“I disagree,” Tony replied frankly. He held up a fist, flicking out his index finger. “One: you had a seizure, arguably similar to the one you had last night. Two,” He unfolded another finger. “ _This_ time, you stopped breathing, something incredibly important to, I don’t know, living…”

 

Peter pressed a hand to his forehead. “ _Mr. Stark_ …”

 

“Three!” Tony held up his hand higher, ignoring Peter’s protests. “It stands to reason there is something triggering these attacks and if we can figure out what it is, we can maybe limit them until we can figure out how to get you home.” He looked wryly down at the younger man. “Something tells me your Aunt May would probably be similar to this universe’s Aunt May, and that means getting you home is _also_ in my best interest.”

 

The attempt at humor, of course, was a cover, and Tony knew he wasn’t fooling any of them.

 

This had been pretty straightforward so far---this was not his Peter Parker. This was not the same kid he’d fished out of the water when his parachute had deployed, this was not the same kid who’d won over his bots and turned them against him.

 

This was not the same kid that had fallen apart in his arms, dust in the wind, particles that turned to nothing. That kid was still gone, he wasn’t here, and so it was easy, he thought, it _should_ be easy to distinguish them.

 

Turned out though...

 

Tony’s heart had pretty much stopped when he’d slid into the med-bay area, alerted by the AI that Peter had had another “episode”. That’s what they were calling it, episodes---because cell decay inducing seizures didn’t have the same kind of ring to it, and so he got there just as Cap was lowering the kid onto the bed, his face pale and wan.

 

“Get out of the way!” Tony had heard himself shout, pushing through his teammates, leaning over the kid's unconscious body and pressing his hands to Peter’s face. Steve had jumped back like he’d been burned and Tony had tensed when Bruce came over to the other side to start an IV. He’d rested a Hulk-sized hand on Tony’s shoulder.

 

“Tony, he’s alright, we got him breathing again, he’s just unconscious.”

 

“Breathing _again_?!” Tony exclaimed. “ _Just_ unconscious?”

 

“It was another seizure,” Natasha chimed in softly from the foot of the bed. She was grasping onto the railing there, expression drawn. “You were right about how serious it was.”

 

Tony didn’t have the energy to snipe at her about doubting him, but the glare he shot between her and Steve was heavy with accusation. “What happened?”

 

And Natasha had filled him in on how she had found him outside his room, staring out over the water and how they had only talked. That Peter had gotten agitated when she only mentioned what had happened in his timeline and Tony had flared once more.

 

“What did I tell you about talking to him?!”

 

“Tony, you need to calm down.”

 

Tony had turned on Steve sharply. “Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down when my kid is lying unconscious in the middle of a hospital bed!”

 

The room had gone silent, save for the beeping of the monitors attached to the young man. Tony took several deep breaths, his mind catching up to what he’d said. 

 

“.... _the_ kid. The kid is unconscious, you can’t just…” He babbled, then threw up his hands and shook his head. “Get out of here. I’ll call you up when he wakes up and we can talk to him about Fisk then.”

 

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then turned on her heel and did as he’d directed. Steve’s gaze had lingered on Tony for a few moments, clearly weighing if this was the time to press but ultimately decided it wasn’t, and followed her out, his only goodbye in the form of a supportive pat on Tony’s shoulder. Bruce hadn’t even looked up from his StarkPad when Tony slid onto a chair next to Peter’s bed, where he stayed until Peter had woken up. 

 

Which is how they’d found themselves here now, with Peter objecting to the care as they waited for Steve and Natasha to rejoin them.

 

Peter squinted at him, musing, “May probably would figure out some way to get to you.”

 

“See.” Tony pressed a finger to his nose, then pointed back at Peter. “And that means you keep your ass in that bed until Bruce gives you the absolute okay. We can fill you in on what we found in Fisk’s building from right here.”

 

“Seriously, Tony, I’m 20 years old, and I’m fine now, even Dr. Banner said so…”

 

“You know, I'd been meaning to ask, you were looking a little less spry,” He smirked. “And actually, what Bruce said, was that you seemed perfectly fine but that he’d prefer if you hung around here so that they could monitor your vitals and use you as a human pin cushion for a few hours to see if there were any residual issues with your blood or anything. So, no, I don’t think this is unnecessary.”

 

“If it helps any, I do think we identified some indicators of at least how to detect when this is going to happen,” Bruce said, stepping up to the side of the bed. Another doctor followed from behind, smiling gently at Peter. “Peter, this is Dr. Raimi. She’s one of our part-time docs that help with some of our more...unique cases. She specializes in a couple of fields, one of them being endocrinology. I’m gonna let her take this, biologistics isn’t my strongest.”

 

The doctor smiled over at Tony first, then turned to direct her explanation to Peter. Tony liked Dr. Raimi. She’d been a first resident before the Thanos, very promising, all the right schools, a favorite of Dr. Cho’s; when Helen ended up as one of the Vanished, Dr. Raimi had stepped up and taken over, one of the only ones left after the Snap. The poor woman had been on the receiving end of Tony’s ire when he’d returned from Titan and he had been absolutely awful to her, but she’d dealt with it remarkably well, considering the circumstances, and now, Tony trusted her implicitly. 

 

“Hi, Peter. It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Peter flushed pink, and she winked, shooting another quick grin in Tony’s direction. “All good stuff, I promise.” She tapped at the pad a few times and straightened where she stood, clearing her throat. “Alright, so. We’ve run some tests on blood and urine samples we took and we identified elevated levels of epinephrine immediately after the attack. Those levels have decreased over the past couple of hours, but I believe a quick spike of adrenaline due to an external stressor may have influenced your seizure.” 

 

“An external stressor named Natasha?” Tony groused, drawing the doctor’s attention.

 

“Well, you were the only one with him for the first attack, Mr. Stark. Do you recall what you may have been talking about? Anything that may have triggered some kind of response?”

 

Tony bit his lip. 

 

“Thanos,” Peter answered quietly. “We were talking about Thanos.”

 

The doctor focused back on Peter, who was staring down at his hands, fisting the blanket in his lap. Her expression went soft. “I think that would possibly do it. Anything else?”

 

Peter hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “So I just need to stay calm and I won’t seize anymore?”

 

“Well,” The doctor tapped at the pad again. “I don’t think the sole reason for the seizures is the adrenal response. Based on the tests Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark ran earlier in the day, you’re cells are decaying at an incredibly high rate. This is not your dimension; based on some preliminary information that was found in Mr. Fisk’s offices, we believe that he was harnessing quantum energy to facilitate his particle collider.”

 

Bruce stepped up beside the doctor. “The working theory Tony and I were able to put together this afternoon is that every dimension has some kind of signature. We detected levels of radiation in your cells, Peter. Some of that is to be expected, considering your abilities, but the signature is slightly different than what we traditionally see. We compared it to some old samples Tony had from your counterpart and noted they are very similar but the isotopic counts are different. We think the seizures are your body's way of trying to make up that difference.”

 

Peter looked over at Tony with a squint.”You kept all that stuff?”

 

“Why would I have gotten rid of it?” He reached out and grabbed onto Peter’s leg, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Kid, this is a good thing. I know it doesn’t sound great, but knowing what the problem is is half the battle. Now we can address it head-on.”

 

Peter nodded numbly, giving Tony a weak smile. He looked back over at Bruce. “So what do we do next?”

 

“Well, you rest. We’re gonna keep you overnight, just to be safe.” Bruce explained. “Steve and Natasha should be here any minute to go over what we found at Fisk’s properties, and maybe tomorrow you can join us in the lab to work on a solution.”

 

“And the seizures?”

 

Tony produced something that looked like a watch. “This is something Bruce used to use to keep track of his heart rate. It’ll at least let us know if there’s a risk it’s gonna happen. We’re pretty sure these... _episodes_ , are going to keep happening, but we want to do everything we can to keep them to a minimum.”

 

“We actually may have something to help with that.” Steve entered the hospital ward, Natasha following by a few paces. He gave Peter a polished grin, but Natasha settled at the foot of Peter’s bed, hands on the railing with a grimace.

 

“I’m sorry I got you stuck in here.”

 

“I don’t think it was all your fault."

 

Tony sighed, irritated and clearly not in agreement. “Can we go back to what you may have to help with this?”

 

Steve gave Tony a heavy look. “Rhodes called. They found Lang.”

 

The air stilled. Tony had no quippy response; he could only look back down at Peter, eyes widening with just another realization that _holy shit this was actually happening_ , and try not to wonder why Peter’s face twisted, for just a moment, almost with regret. 

 

“Like...found, found Lang?” Banner asked. “Or just the impound lot…”

 

“Scott Lang is currently in custody and being reunited with his daughter. He finished his debrief about an hour ago, which is when Rhodes got in touch with us.” Steve informed them. “As you can imagine, he’s in a pretty extreme state of shock and distress, and his main concern was his family.  But he did have some information for us that matched what you had told us, Peter, and I think may help with whatever is going on with those seizures.”

 

“I never met Mr. Lang before the Snap,” Peter said, face twisting in confusion. He looked up at Tony. “I mean, the airport thing, with the AT-AT move, but we didn’t like, talk.” He looked back over at Steve. “How does he know who I am?”

 

“Rhodes explained to Scott how we knew where to find him,” Natasha chimed in. “When Rhodey mentioned you, and where you were from, the…” She waved her hands. “Issues you were having, Scott mentioned a similar-sounding case he’d seen, some woman who’d been poisoned with quantum radiation as a child. It’s not the most ideal solution, but we’ll find out more details when he arrives tomorrow afternoon.” She looked over at Tony. “As you may imagine, his first priority is his daughter right now, but in the morning, he and Rhodes are going to head back and they’re bringing the quantum device with them.”

 

It was like drinking from a firehose. Tony turned his attention to the young man in the bed, whose eyes had seemed to glaze over.

 

"You tracking, Pete?"

 

“I...I think so.” He pushed himself up into a seated position. “Different dimensions and isotopic signatures, Scott Lang and…” He looked up at Steve. “Fisk?”

 

“Yeah, we were gonna get to that too.” Steve smiled softly. “We did a little digging. Fisk’s wife and son were killed in 2012, during the Battle of New York. Ever since, he was obsessed with trying to figure out a way to bring them back, if it were possible. Even to the detriment of the city.”

 

“Our files indicate he was working with an Olivia Octavius to accomplish this.” Natasha chimed in. “The drawings we found matched what looked to be some new construction in the area of the subway you told us about. We think Fisk had just begun preliminary construction on the collider when the Snap happened. Obviously, work on that has stalled, but we have the schematics and that’s where the rest comes in.”

 

Tony looked up at him. “It gives us a lot to work with. We’re in a really good place, Pete. We’re gonna get you home, kid.”

 

“I know, Mr. Stark,” Peter looked up at him with a half-smile. “I don’t trust anyone else. Why I came to the best.”

 

The way Peter was looking at him made him go all soft inside, and Tony resisted the urge to jokingly remind the kid he was kind of the only option he had. “Damn right.” He grinned at him. “But for now, you need to take it easy.” Tony swiveled around where he was sitting, facing Steve and Natasha with a neutral expression. “We can cover the rest with him in the lab tomorrow, I know he’s gonna want to get his hands dirty here with us. You guys cool with standing down until Scott can get here?”

 

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable,” Steve answered easily. He smiled softly at the younger man in the bed. “This has probably been enough for one day, right?”

 

Peter gave him a look that told Tony that this was all enough for a lifetime, but Peter didn’t say anything and Tony decided it wasn’t really his place to either. As Peter had said, he was an adult; he could make some decisions for himself and putting on a strong face for Steve Rogers was something that Tony could understand perfectly. He waited for Steve and Natasha to say their goodbyes and for the doctors to disperse before saying anything else.

 

“That was a lot. You seem to be taking it well.”

 

Peter shrugged where he was seated. His eyes were focused on his lap, hands folded there atop the blanket. Tony wasn’t sure what to do now.

 

Part of him wanted to talk about what came next. A step by step attack plan, very formal, very clinical, all with an end result of achieving the mission of getting the boy home safe but he wasn’t sure that was what the kid needed right now, wasn’t sure it was conducive to the overall need of what they needed to get to.

 

He was grown up.

 

Twenty, he’d said, Tony thought suddenly. So 3 or 4 more birthdays, and Christmases and all that other stuff. Based on their conversation the night before, he knew Morgan and Pepper, and Tony was glad to hear things were so similar to here. He’d have to ask, what else was going on. He’d been so preoccupied with fixing this, they’d not really talked about the more pleasant parts of what was going on in Peter’s life. 

 

He wondered if the kid had ever worked up the courage to ask that girl out he insisted was  _ **just a friend**_  on a real date and stopped just mooning at her during those nerdy decathlon practices she ran.

 

“So. How are you feeling now? Physically, I mean?”

 

Peter shrugged again. He lifted his arm with the watch. “Better. Really, Mr. Stark, thank you so much for all your help.”

 

“Do you have any questions, Peter?”

 

“Yeah,” He nodded, looking around the room. “Where is my stuff?”

 

“Stuff?”

 

“What I was wearing, when you brought me in?” Peter flushed. "I mean, I'm in this gown now but I assume my jeans are somewhere…"

 

“Ah, yeah,” Tony frowned, pressing a button on his watch. “Hey, Bruce, where’d you put the kid’s pants?”

 

“Mr. _Stark_.”

 

“Oh calm down, it’s what you asked for.”

 

Bruce’s voice came from down the hall. “Second drawer of the rolling cart near the counter. Shirt and phone are with it.”

 

Tony walked over and grabbed a plastic bag filled with Peter’s things, tossing it gently on the kid's lap. He sunk down into the seat by the bed once more as Peter dug his hand into the bag and pulled out what he must have been looking for---his cell phone.

 

“You gotta call you need to make?” Tony asked dryly. Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s dead,” Peter replied. “I was hoping I could charge it to at least get to the stuff I have stored on the hard drive…”

 

“What is _this_?” Tony asked, aghast, snatching the phone before Peter could object. He pinched it with his fingers, swinging it in midair, examining it critically. “This phone is four years old!” He stared at Peter, scandalized. “I let you walk around with ancient tech?”   


“4 years is not ancient,” Peter growled, leaning forward and grabbing it with his hand. “I just like to get use out of my stuff is all, I don’t like to upgrade something every 10 seconds like _some people_.” He pulled the phone to him protectively. “Do you have a USB-c charger by any chance?”

 

“I’m sure, in some junk bin somewhere,” Tony answered, clearly judging him. “We’ve been wirelessly charging stuff for years in this timeline.”

 

“We have wireless charging,” Peter sniped. “I just like my phone the way it is, I have a lot of stuff saved on it.”

 

“No cloud storage in your place?”

 

“I only use it for backups,” Peter told him. “I don’t know, I like a local store for the stuff that’s important to me.” Peter’s ears tinged pink at the tips. “Just...stuff from home.”

 

Tony was going to tease him but thought better of it. He tried to consider what it must be like for Peter; sure, Tony was here, but he was different than Peter’s Tony. Same for Peter’s Cap or Bruce or anyone else. And May wasn’t here, none of his college friends---Peter had mentioned Pepper and Morgan, too, which made Tony oddly relieved and comforted, but Pepper was still in California with the munchkin and wasn’t supposed to be back for a week.

 

He _really_ needed to call her and update her about all of this.

 

“T.A.D, you wanna see if Bruce can get us a USB-C cord to charge the kid’s phone?” Tony asked, his expression softening as Peter relaxed in response to the request.

 

“Affirmative, boss.”

 

Peter sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Stop being so appreciative about everything, this is all small potatoes kid,” He leaned onto the bedrail, grinning. “You’re setting the bar real low; let’s save a little for the big stuff, like getting you home in one piece. Let the other me enjoy the fruits of my labor, huh?”

 

Peter’s cheeks flushed with color, before he looked down at his lap, fingers tightening on his phone. “Um...yeah. Yeah, he’ll...he’d really love that.”

 

There was something there, Tony realized, something he wasn’t getting but as he opened his mouth to press, Bruce appeared in the doorway, waving a cord in the air. He greeted them with an awkward smile, sensing he’d interrupted something and hurriedly plugged it into a USB outlet on the side of the wall, handing the other end to Peter who thanked him again.

 

“You know, we don’t know how long you’ll be here,” Bruce asked, looking down at him with a raised brow. “You want something a little newer?”

 

Peter rolled his eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”

  


* * *

 

Peter did as he was told. Tony made sure the resident A.I was aware that the kid was only allowed out of bed to use the bathroom and if the building was on literal fire, but for nothing else, or Tony was to be notified. When he had fallen asleep around 9, Tony left the room and walked towards his own rooms to give his wife a call.

 

Tony felt bad about it, but he kind of blew past the pleasantries with her. She listened quietly as he updated her on everything they'd discovered during their time at the Compound., expanding on the earthquake and the device they needed to figure out to get him home. He didn't bother to mention the Thanos stuff; not when there was still so much they didn't know.

 

“I...Honey, what you’re saying doesn’t make sense,” Pepper spoke to him slowly and deliberately, gentleness in her tone as if she were trying to rationalize with him. “You're sure this isn't some...some trick? He's not one of those...Skrull things, you've read up on?"

 

Tony held up a hand as if she could see him. “Look, dear, I know it sounds crazy. I thought I was seeing stuff too when he was creeping around in our hydrangea bushes last night at 2 am but it’s really him. I had the whole workup done by Bruce this morning.” He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “There are some complications, so we have to work fast to get him back to where he needs to go, but let’s be honest, this is not the craziest thing we’ve ever dealt with.”

 

Wasn’t that the truth. Thanos had pretty much rendered any and all future trials plausible. Pepper made a kind of “oh well” sound on the other end of the phone; Tony could practically see her rubbing her brow. “Okay well, what do you need from me?”

 

“To keep enjoying the rest of your vacation.”

 

“Tony---”

 

“Pep, look. Whatever we’re gonna do to get him back where he belongs, it’s probably going to take longer than a week and I frankly need to be focused on the situation at hand. There’s more to this than I’m telling you and I’d rather understand it more before we dive in further.” His hand tightened on the phone. “Is Morgan around?”  


“She’s in the basement with Mom watching a movie. You want me to get her?”

 

“Nah, I'll call back tomorrow. It’s been a hellishly long day.” He winced. “Kiss her for me, tell her I love her?” 

 

“Always.” He could hear the smile now. “And how are you dealing with this?”

 

Tony winced. “I mean, it’s a different Peter but he’s so much like ours. It’s...hard to separate them.” He shrugged. “He’s having a hard time too, naturally. Misses home. Misses May, I assume, and his version of you and Morgan---apparently you guys are close too, which is good. Stuff like that.”

 

“Oh? He...he told you all of that?”

 

“Rather reluctantly and not all that completely, but his poker face could use some work,” Tony replied dryly. “There’s other stuff I can tell he’s not being completely upfront about but I’m gonna talk to him tomorrow, try and get it out of him. Being here, it’s not...good for him. He keeps having these...episodes…” He rattled on a little about the seizures and how it had to do with the makeup of Peter’s cells. He knew he was going to lose her after a few minutes in the science weeds, so he made his best attempt at a layman's rundown.

 

“Then we probably need to come home sooner,” Pepper responded when he finished. “If he’s sick…”

 

“He’s not _really_ sick, this just isn't where he should be,” Tony explained. “But it does mean we gotta figure this out fast. Which is why it’s honestly better for you to just finish up your vacation.” He paused. “I’ll keep you posted, honey. I promise if anything changes and you need to be here, I’ll let you know.”

 

“I want to see him,” She replied firmly. “I just...I miss him too.”

 

“I know,” Tony said softly. “He wouldn’t want your vacation ruined though and like I said, everything will be a little more clear when you get back.”

 

He repeated his promise to call if anything changed and told her he loved her before hanging up and retreating to his room, fighting the urge to get into the lab and _work_. The night before he’d barely slept, and he wanted to be up early to make sure he had eyes on the kid so he forced himself into his room, tossing and turning until he was able to fall asleep.

 

Bruce was already up and showered in the lab when he dragged himself down the next day. He wordlessly pointed Tony towards a full pot of coffee, which earned him a grunt of appreciation and it was a few sips before Tony cleared his throat, rubbing at his head.

 

“Kid up yet?”

 

Bruce nodded. “Showering. He was ready to get going but I told him to slow roll it a little, take it easy. Clean scans though, no sign of another attack.”

 

“Well, let's keep it that way,” Tony sniffed, walking over to settle next to Bruce before addressing the A.I. “T.A.D., pull up the prelim schematics for the collider and lets separate some of the components out. Get into the nuts and bolts of this.”

 

“Absolutely, sir.”

 

A hologram appeared in mid-air and Tony started poking through bits and pieces, making conversation with Bruce on how they could make something small enough to fit at the Compound, something that wasn’t going to take up an entire underground lair type place like in the subway, something they could throw together in the quickest amount of time possible and get Peter home.

 

He was in the middle of questioning a complete section of configurations, baffled as to the way it had been defined; the way Octavius had designed the particle acceleration was only going to make it harder to get anyone off the ground, not move it faster. He had no idea what the woman must have been thinking----except it was no wonder it had almost collapsed on itself, and now he was beginning to worry about more than just sending Peter back alone.

 

This device couldn’t go fully live. They were going to have to figure out how to destroy it as well. If Peter had been flung into their dimension, there was a chance of their own being compromised should something of this magnitude succeed. 

 

“Whoaaaa,” Peter’s voice came in a whisper from behind him and Tony spun in place, sloshing some of his second cup of coffee onto the floor. “Are you...taking it apart?”

 

“Gotta know how it works somehow,” Tony quipped. The kid’s hair was damp, curling at the ends, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, one which Tony noted wasn’t one they’d bought at the outlet, but an older sweatshirt that was Tony’s stored away in the spare room Peter had stayed in. He decided against saying anything and gestured towards the coffee. “Grab a mug and get over here. Grab that Pad with the specs and we can start from the top. How’s your nuclear physics?”

 

Peter grinned. “Alright?”

 

Tony smirked. “Well, that’ll have to do.”

 

They fell back into a familiar cadence, though it had been 8 years for Tony. Whatever education Peter was getting at MIT, it seemed to be taking---there was even once or twice he’d given Tony a skeptical side-eye, making him reconsider his point and Peter had only grinned, flushed, an expression on his face that seemed to reflect a complete adrenaline rush and Tony had to bite his cheek to keep from grinning.

 

Little shit.

 

Bruce took an inventory as Tony pulled and threw stuff out. Peter kept track as they went through the schematics and T.A.D.A.S.H.I maintained a recording so the orders could be put in after Tony reviewed the notes. Tony let his gaze drag back to the kid every now and then, taking in Peter’s furrowed brow, scratching at his forehead with the end of the stylus. 

 

At one point, Peter looked up, sensing the scrutiny and gave him a shy smile. “Everything alright, Mr. Stark?”

 

And Tony; his throat pinched and he had to swallow---once or twice and try to keep his lungs pulling in air because Peter, he was a little taller. His cheeks had hollowed out, the angles of his face sharper and firm, shoulders rolled back and just...confident and here, and Tony felt the pang again in his chest. 

 

 

Flesh and bones and brains, and real. Peter was real, this wasn't one of those dreams he'd had over the years. _Peter was real_.

 

“Yeah, kid,” He winced, knowing his voice was a little strained. “Just...tired.” Which didn’t make any sense of course, as he’d gotten a full night's rest; but it was the only excuse he could think to use.

 

Peter grinned, ducking his head a little. “No worries. I’m a little tired too.”

 

Tony opened his mouth to say something else, ask about yesterday and about how he was doing but then the A.I. lit up throughout the room, voice drawing all their attention.

 

“Mr. Stark, Captain Roger’s requests your presence in the Command Room. Colonel Rhodes and Mr. Lang’s ETA is 15 minutes.”

 

Tony sighed. “Fine. Fine, yeah. Let him know I’ll wrap up here and be there in a second,” He looked over at Bruce. “You guys good here? I can’t imagine the meeting is gonna take too long.”

 

“Yeah, go,” Bruce gestured, tablet in hand towards the door. Peter’s gaze jumped back and forth between the two, apparently a little uncertain of either being left behind or...whatever waited for them during their discussion with Scott. Tony held a hand up, offering a gentle smile.

 

“Seriously, gimme like 20 minutes. Get a quick rundown; Scott’s never been my biggest fan. You got anything I need to carry out there, kid? Any other little nuggets you’re not sharing with the class?”

 

“Nope,” Peter shook his head. “This is a little uncharted for me, he was already back after you guys undid the Snap.”

 

“Well, I'm sure once he gets settled they’re gonna want to drill you a bit more on all that. If that’s okay.” Tony glanced over at Bruce, busy with whatever he was working, making a not so subtle attempt to give them their space. Tony walked closer to Peter, lowering his voice. “Look. I’m serious about managing your stress and stuff. We don’t know how those seizures are going to affect you if you have more. So if you need me to tell Steve to back off…”

 

Peter shook his head again, this time quicker, stiffer, and his lips pressed together. “ _No_ , Mr. Stark, I want to help you guys. I know a lot…” He paused, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. “I know that you know there’s other stuff I haven’t gotten to. And...and there is, and it’s just because there’s a lot and it’s a lot to explain, so that’s why…” 

 

Tony reached out and rested his hand on Peter’s bicep, giving it a soft squeeze. “Kid, I get it. You don’t have to explain, we’ll get there. We’re not gonna have this thing up and running tomorrow or anything. And I’d much rather you parse it out, let us absorb and move towards the next part. I can’t imagine it’s all gonna be all that easy for us to hear either.”

 

He watched Peter’s throat bob up and down as the kid swallowed a couple of times and that niggling at the back of his brain piqued again. Natasha had said something vague about whatever she and Peter had talked about, how he didn’t seem to know her. Peter had been twitchy and clearly nervous and Tony had been chalking it up to the whole bizarre nature of the situation but it was becoming clear---to everyone involved---that it wasn’t just the space displacement.

 

“I know I'm putting you to work, it’s probably not the most exciting stuff you could be doing…” Tony continued gently. “And this isn’t even about the seizures, it’s your mental space as well. If you need a break, or to distance yourself from the lab stuff…”

 

“No!” This is awesome, Mr. Stark, I’ve really missed working through problems like this here,” Peter said, flushing. “I mean, with college and all, we just don’t get a lot of lab time outside of school work and stuff…"

 

Tony held up a hand, responding with a grin, “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m sure between MIT and your friends, you don’t have time for old Iron Man anymore.”

 

Peter froze, paling. He stared at Tony for a second with round, stunned eyes, then ducked his head and forced an awkward laugh. He recovered quickly enough, trying to cover it up. “Yeah. Yeah exactly, Mr. Stark, that’s...that’s exactly how it goes.”

 

For a moment, Tony considered telling the A.I. to tell Steve that this could wait but the truth was, it really couldn’t. It wasn’t just about the entire other problem they were trying to solve here; Scott apparently had a solution to the phasing issue and as much as Tony wanted to tackle this clear problem Right Now, there were others that needed to be dealt with first. 

 

So he sighed. Tony squinted at the kid in thought---Peter still hadn’t looked back up at him, intensely focusing on the StarkPad in his hand---but ended up just sighing, scratching at the back of his head.

 

“Okay, yeah, well then,” He crossed his arms. “We’re gonna take an aside when I get back, maybe get a bite. You okay with that?”

 

Peter looked back up with a real grin this time, any sign of distress absent from his expression. “Only if you’re not the one making it.”

 

“Oh, we have jokes now?” Tony raised a brow. “I’ll have you know, I have become an excellent chef in my retirement. Ain’t that right, Bruce?”

 

“Ehhhh,” Bruce wiggled his shoulders without looking up from his work, a half-smile evident from the profile of his face.

 

“I rescind my standing invite to the lakehouse,” Tony replied blandly. “Alright. 20 minutes. 30 tops. Then lunch. You and me. Good?”

 

“Good.”

 

The pressurized doors hissed as they opened behind him and he made his way towards the Command Center, unable to ignore the nagging of their interaction.

 

Peter was nervous around him, constantly. Jumpy and constantly fidgeting. There were moments that it felt like nothing had changed, like when he’d teased him last night, about that ridiculously anci---

 

And there it was. 

 

The picture came together, finally. Tony had to stop and lean against the wall, arm outstretched, and mentally kicked himself for not getting it earlier. His stomach knotted up and he closed his eyes.

 

A roaring filled his ears, and Tony suddenly felt like he was falling, being swallowed up in space, hurtling back down towards that wormhole.  He remembered Peter’s face in the lab after his attempt at that terrible joke, remembered how the kid had looked away when he’d mentioned his counterpart ...well, really, anytime over the past two days. A pit opened in his stomach, the realization settling in, making him cold all over. 

 

 _The forest for the trees._ So preoccupied with _fix-it, fix-it, fix-it_ , he'd never thought to ask how or why this had happened, how or why Peter had looked at him like that in the dark the other night like he was seeing a ghost. He'd written it off as the shock of the situation, just like everything else.

 

He was a fucking idiot.

 

 _The phone._  There was no way in hell he would be letting Peter walk around with 4-year-old tech. 

 

Tony wasn’t _there_. At least he wasn’t now.

 

Not anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony’s meeting with Scott and the rest of the team went about as well as anyone could expect for a man who had been essentially suspended in time for 8 years. He was still adjusting to the new reality---he would speak of Hank or Hope as if they hadn’t been dead for 8 years; as if they would be showing up anytime to help explain where he’d been and how he’d been trapped. Scott wanted Tony to take a look at the Quantum device in the beat-up old van they’d had shipped with them, along with some kind of device that Scott believed may help Peter as well.

 

“It’s a Quantum Energy Chamber,” Scott explained, with a little sigh. “I don’t know the specifics of it but the general gist of how it works is, it generates quantum energy to stabilize any kind of disequilibrium happening with the cells. It worked for Ava, but I don’t know enough about your kid to be able to say for certain one way or the other.”

 

Tony hadn’t missed Scott’s phrasing; if anyone else had caught it and been surprised, they didn’t show it. “So, what, we just toss Pete in and hope for the best?”   
  


“Probably something to consult with Bruce on, right?” Steve asked. “Until that can be settled, why don’t we talk about the quantum device itself for a second…”

 

Tony bristled. “I thought I made it clear that was a secondary priority to the collider issue.”

 

“We’ve worked on more than one thing before,” Steve rounded. “Besides, you and Bruce and Peter are on top of that. We can do everything to prepare for this while we wait.”

 

Tony noticed only then that the team was one short. “Where’s Nat?"

 

Steve straightened up, crossing his arms. 

 

Tony grimaced. _Oh boy, here we go._  


 

“She’s on an errand. Tracking some leads down.”

 

Tony gave him a measured look for a moment, sticking a pen in his mouth. He tilted his head forward, narrowing his eyes over his black-rimmed glasses and barked out a laugh. “Barton? You sent her after Barton?”   
  


Steve set his jaw. “I didn’t send her, she took off on her own.”

 

“Well, that’s great. Really great. All we need is a resident sociopath in addition to the rest of this----”

 

“Sociopath?” Scott chimed in.

 

“Barton’s entire family were Vanished,” Rhodes intervened quietly, sending Tony a warning look. “He didn’t take it well.”

 

Tony laughed darkly, once again. “That’s an understatement. Guy’s been slaughtering people up and down the coastline of any continent he can manage, he’s a one-man vigilante squad---”

 

“Not all of us were lucky enough to have a home to settle back into, Tony.” Steve pointed out, and it sounded like an admonishment. 

 

Tony practically blacked out in a rage.

 

He spun around, stalking over to the Captain. “Lucky, huh? I’m lucky? You wanna tell that to that 20-year-old kid in the lab---”

 

“That’s enough.” Rhodey interrupted firmly, inserting himself between the two. “So we just learned nothing from the last 10 years? We just gonna keep at each other’s throats like a pack of wild dogs?”

 

“Don’t give me that,” Tony spat back. He pointed a finger over Rhodes’s shoulder, glaring at Steve. “This isn’t about what happened back then, it’s about what’s happening now. And I’m tired of being talked to as if I don’t fully understand what’s at stake here.”

 

Rhodey’s hands were on his shoulders. Scott stood in the background, gaping at the scene and Steve stood, stalwart as ever, hands over his chest with a critical look on his face.

 

“I never said that, Tony.”

 

“You never have to _say_ anything, Cap,” Tony spat. “We can all read between the lines.”

 

Rhodey scrutinized him now, Steve an afterthought behind him. His hands curled around the fabric of Tony’s shirt, coming to palm his shoulder with a firm hold.  He shook his head. “Something happened. He told you something else.”

 

Tony pulled away, shaking his head. “He didn’t tell me anything specific, but I know that kid. It’s been a long time, but I know him. And I know there’s some serious shit he’s not telling us, and I just don’t think this is going to be as apple pie and rainbows as you want this to be.”   
  


Steve’s face settled stoic, and he postured up straight, rolling his shoulders back. “It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

 

“I didn’t _say_ we shouldn’t try. I said that we need to get Peter back to his time before we do anything about it.”

 

Before I’m out of the equation, is what he didn’t say. Before whatever goes wrong with the time thing goes wrong while Peter’s here and they lose both of them. Before---

 

“Can we talk to Peter then? Ask him for some more information?” Scott chimed in softly. 

 

“Peter comes to us,” Tony replied, shaking his head. When Steve opened his mouth, Tony stopped him with a look. “I will bring it up to him. I’ll share your concerns but I am not going to force him to talk about anything he doesn’t feel comfortable with. We have time here, it’s gonna take us weeks to figure the collider stuff out. Before he goes home, you’ll have your answers, but they’ll be on his terms.”

 

Steve didn’t look happy about it but he nodded. “Alright. We’ll leave that and the collider stuff to you. But we’re going to do what we can otherwise to prepare for after.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Steve.” He nodded over at Scott. “Good to have you back, tiny Tim. I mean that sincerely. Let me know if you or your family need a place to stay or something while you’re here.”

 

“Thanks,” Scott answered, face twisting in confusion. “I think. My daughter may come to visit if that’s alright.”

 

“Sure,” Tony nodded. “Things may get interesting later on, so she can stay at my Lakehouse with the missus and the munchkin for safekeeping. But she’s welcome anytime.” He tilted his head towards Cap, serious again. “I’ll take the chamber info back to Bruce and Peter and get their read. Can you have it sent to my wing for now? If we try it out I want him to at least be in a familiar place.”

 

Rhodey nodded. “I’ll let the agents know."

 

Tony smiled at him. “Thanks, buddy.” He nodded over at Steve. “I’ll have an update for you as soon as I can.”

 

“I appreciate that, Tony.”

 

He didn’t say anything further, just turned and headed down the hall back to the lab. It was nearing noon, so he called out to the AI to order them some takeout and let him know when it would be there. 

 

Tony stopped just outside the lab, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation in the least---confronting one’s untimely demise was hardly something to look forward to. And then there were the variables behind it but all those details could all be dealt with later.

 

Now. Now he needed to make sure that first off, Peter was alright. It felt like he’d already spent a lot of time doing that, but now he had one more piece of a missing puzzle---and there were probably many more that he wasn’t guaranteed to find out about anytime soon. But bursting in and confronting the younger man outright probably wasn’t the right way to go about it and so he’d have to ease into it.

 

Secondly---okay. So he was...dead. He was dead. That was...fine. He’d almost died a bunch of times. And sure, now he had a daughter and a wife, Peter might be back and the world would always be imperiled, but there were some things worth sacrificing for---he’d just been lucky enough to survive it so far. And he couldn’t know how or why but then again, that may be solved by the first point.

 

Tony couldn’t even be certain that whatever happened to him had been connected to the Snap. Maybe he’d been hit by a bus or had a heart attack. Maybe he hadn’t even been gone that long.

 

And what if his intuition was wrong (even though it never was)? What if, maybe, they’d undone the Snap and Tony had truly retired and maybe Peter really just liked his old phone.

 

Tony stared at the lip of the lab door. One-step and T.A.D.A.S.H.I’s proximity sensors would open the door and he’d have to figure it out. 

 

It was just a matter of taking it.

 

Tony sighed. No sense delaying it. He’d focus on Bruce first, get him to give Peter and Tony the room and then….he was pretty sure the words he needed would surely come.

 

They may have never been exactly right, but they had always gotten him and Peter where they needed to go.

 

Tony stepped forward. The huff of pressurized air preceded the sliding lab door and Bruce was there, facing him from the closest point and looked up, welcoming him with a smile. Peter was in the background, close to one of the corners of the lab, deep in what Tony assumed to be some coding on a workstation. That was probably for the best.

 

Bruce gave him a little nod as he neared. “Everything okay with Scott?”

 

Tony shrugged. “As it can be. He’s still acclimating. And he did have something he thinks may help with the seizures but um,” His gaze flickered over to Peter, then back to Bruce, who didn’t miss it. “You mind giving me and him a minute?”

 

Bruce glanced over at Peter, then shifted so his back was complete to the younger man. _Subtle_. Tony rolled his eyes. 

 

“Something I should know?”

 

“Something you will. Nothing to do with Scott, not right now. We can cover that after lunch, I got some take out on the way, T.A.D. will let you know when it’s here and you can go grab it if you don’t mind. I just have something I want to ask him and I’d rather do it in private.”

 

Bruce’s expression softened and Tony wondered how his own looked. He was dreading the conversation, to be honest; he hated that Peter was here. He hated that he was still part of this at all, that the Avengers were still fucking up this kid’s life. Not for the first time in 8 years was he again doubting the role he played in recruiting him; sure, he was clearly still superheroing, but that was by his own design. This was being forced upon him, a pawn in the resolution of their own Snap crisis and it left a sour taste in Tony’s mouth to know the kid was having to live through it twice.

 

In either case, Bruce nodded without another word. He set his stuff down and left without saying goodbye to Peter.

 

Tony waited until the door had been closed a few seconds to make his way to where Peter was working. He must have picked up on the advance because he looked up and gave Tony a smile before he could speak. “Hey, that didn’t take too long after all. Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good,” Tony grinned. “Scott’s all in one piece. Brought something we think may help with the whole interdimensional….issue. Say, you got a sec, kid? Lunch is on the way, but I was hoping we might get a chance to have a chat before it got here.”

 

It was only then that Peter seemed to realize they were alone. He had to have been deep in whatever he was doing, Tony realized, to not have sensed that Bruce had left. His eyes widened a little and but he just nodded and gestured towards a couch on the other side of the lab. Tony let him take the lead, then followed, watching him carefully.

 

Peter sighed as he sat down. “Okay, just say it. Whatever is it, just tell me.”

 

Tony cocked his head a little. “What makes you think this is bad talk?”

 

Peter’s brows raised. “Because you have that look on your face. It’s your serious, no fun, business talk face.”

 

“I don’t have a no-fun business talk face.”

 

“Uh yeah, you _do_ ,” Peter said with a soft smile. The corners of his eyes drooped and the smile lessened just enough to make it sad. “Tell me. I can take it.”

 

Tony grimaced a little and lowered himself on the seat next to Peter. He shifted and sat up straight, clearing his throat. “It’s not...about the shifting thing. Though Scott thinks he has something that might help, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

 

“Oh goody.”

 

Tony laughed a little at that. “It’s nothing too terrible but we’ll get to it in a second. Right now I want to talk about you and where you’re coming from.”

 

Peter sobered at that. His face twitched and he fidgeted a little. “Okay.”

 

“You mentioned earlier that there’s stuff you have to tell us, that you want to tell us, but it wasn’t really the time. And the rest of the team is getting a little antsy, and I was thinking about a few things so I wanted to see if we could talk about some of that now.” He held out his hands a little. “Just us. No one else.”

 

Peter paled. He shifted a little so he was facing forward instead of towards Tony, now, and looked away. “Aw Mr. Stark, I don’t...I’m not really sure…”

 

“There is no way, Pete,” Tony interrupted softly. “That I would be letting you swing around with tech that outdated. I know that, in my bones.”

 

“I told you. That I’m at school. I’m trying not to rely so much on you…”

 

“Yeah, but I’m pushy about stuff like that.”

 

Peter glared over at him. “You’re pushy about a lot of stuff.”

 

Tony gave a small smile at that and let the silence fill their space. He could see Peter’s breathing had picked up, that his fingers were picking at each other. His eyes darted around the lab, not necessarily looking for an escape but trying to figure out what to do next.

 

“I don’t want to pressure you, Pete. But I want to make sure we know what we’re working with. And I know it’s stressing you out, which doesn’t help our other problem.” Tony set a hesitant hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Let me help you.”

 

When Peter looked back at him then, his eyes were glassy. Tony braced himself for what was coming. “It’s complicated and I didn’t want to say everything in front of everyone. It kind of...involves, more than one person that was in that room and I just wasn’t sure how it would play.”

 

Tony nodded; it made sense, especially because he got the impression it wasn’t exactly good. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Well, it’s just me now kid. I’m all ears.”   
  


“I…” Peter blew out a breath between pursed lips. “I only know what they told me after, you know? Everything was insane, it was crazy,” He shook his head. “D’you remember how I told you that you guys split into teams to go after the stones?”

 

Tony nodded. 

 

“Well, something...happened with the team that went to 2014. Rhodey and Nebula went together. Natasha and Clint went after the Soul Stone, to Vormir.” Peter paused. 

 

“And that’s where it went wrong?” Tony asked softly.

 

“Started to,” Peter said with a nod. “Something...happened with Nebula. Somehow, Thanos there found out about her, he captured her and switched her out with the Nebula from 2014. And the Soul Stone…” Peter’s jaw clenched. “In order to obtain the Soul Stone, you have to make a sacrifice. You have to…” He shook his head, trying to remember the exact words. “Clint said you have to ‘lose what you love most’.” He looked over at Tony. “Natasha never came back from Vormir, Mr. Stark.”   
  


A sour taste rose in the back of Tony’s throat. Okay, well that explained Peter’s unfamiliarity with her now. He’d only ever interacted with her in Germany, at the airport, so this wasn’t completely surprising; Natasha had said the seizure had been trigger when she’d brought it up. Tony nodded. “Okay. So that’s one we’ll have to figure out. But I have a feeling the Nebula thing had some fallout?”

 

Peter’s eyes were trained on the wall in front of him, distant and disassociative. He swallowed hard. “Nebula...the bad one, she brought Thanos and his army to the present, after Dr. Banner snapped and brought everyone back. It...destroyed the Compound. Dr. Strange was able to get us all there using portals but…” His voice hitched. “Thanos still was able to get the new Gauntlet you designed. Nanotech, designed to fit whoever it needed. He had it on and everything, he was going to snap everyone from existence…”

 

Peter’s head swiveled to face Tony and his insides twisted. Unshed tears gathered in his eyes. He blinked, sending one down the side of his face.

 

“In the end, we won,” Peter said in a low voice, but his voice cracked and his expression broke and Tony had to force himself to not look away, every moment confirming his worst suspicions. “We won, Mr. Stark. You did it. You did it, sir, and---” He turned his face away and his lips whited as he pressed them together, holding back a sob. “I’m sorry. _I’m sorry_.”

 

God, every atom in his body wanted to grab onto the boy and squeeze him as tight as possible but he knew that Peter was still a little skittish and he didn’t want to be too much, so he tightly folded his arms over his chest. “Aw kid. Why didn’t you just say something when you landed here?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s a weird thing to have to tell someone, that they’re dead. And I was confused and I didn’t know what was going on or how I even got here.” He shrugged, looking away. “And I was worried. That maybe you wouldn’t want to help me...if you knew that.”

 

“That I wouldn’t want to help? Because of a decision a completely different person made?”

 

“Because of me,” Peter whipped back around to him, unabashed and solemn, even if the tears were now slowly sliding down his face. “Ms. Potts told me that. Maybe not in so many words, but I know...you had a chance to bring me and everyone else back and you took that chance and you lost. And Pepper and Morgan, we all lost you.”

 

“He didn’t lose then,” Tony said. “Your universe’s Tony, I mean; if it meant keeping them and you safe, the world safer, that’s not a loss.”

 

Peter blushed. “God. Right. See that was the other thing. It’s...hard, being here. And keeping you two apart. Like I know you’re different. I _know_ that,” He said, pointing a finger against his temple, shaking his head with a tremble. “But it’s been kind of nice to pretend. That none of it ever happened at all.”

 

And couldn’t Tony understand _that_ too.

 

“I just miss him so much,” Peter said, almost a whisper, staring at the floor again. “There’s so much I want to talk to him about and show him. I want to tell him about MIT and about MJ, and I want to show him all that I've learned and I _can't,_ " Peter tugged the sleeve of the sweatshirt he was wearing over his fist, rubbing at his face. "I know you’re not my Tony, but…”

  
“I’m _a_ Tony.” Tony gently supplied. 

 

Peter nodded but didn’t break from his stream of consciousness, “And you’re a really great Tony, Mr. Stark, I really like you too. I miss my Tony, and you’re not him, I know that. But you’re all I have. And we have to work together.” Peter had stopped crying, but he rubbed at his eyes. “You’re resourceful, you’re just as brilliant, I still feel like I _know you_ …”

 

Fuck it. Tony leaned in and pulled the kid to him and Peter’s arms hooked under his biceps, digging in against his back, pasting himself against Tony’s chest. One of Tony’s hands found its way to the base of Peter’s neck, fingers twisting in his hair. 

 

“It’s okay kid, you don’t have to explain,” He reassured softly, holding onto Peter tightly, resting his chin on his shoulder. “I can be your Tony, too.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was shining off the West African coastline in Guinea-Bissau.

 

It was a sharp contrast, Natasha thought, to the patterns of blood spattered on the wall. 

 

She entered the villa on the ground floor and she could hear the last of it being finished above her. She knew the assassin’s pattern by now---gets in, does his business, leaves without much of a trace outside of the carnage. She’d clocked the entrances and exits with cameras, the ones without, and followed the sound of the screams and the bodies hitting the floor. 

 

She waited outside of the room, just to the left of the open doorway. She listened as the cartel leader plead for his life, as he didn’t even get to finish---there was only a sharp cry and the sound of the man choking to death on his own blood.

 

She stayed silent, as the vigilante cleaned his blade, sheathing it once more. The assassin stood in silence, surveying his work. He didn’t turn to leave.

 

“You gonna come in or you gonna make me wait all day?”

 

Natasha didn’t smile. She slipped in through the walkway, carefully of broken floorboards and mangled bodies. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

 

He turned then, shucking off his hood. He didn’t smile either. “Thought I told you to leave me alone.”

 

“Yeah, well you know me and orders,” She replied blandly. “Take 'em more as polite suggestions.”

 

The assassin smirked. “What are you doing here, Nat?”

 

If it had been the olden days, there would have been banter. She would have made a few jokes, he would have turned them back on her and maybe they would even have sparred a little. But they were older and Clint Barton seemed to have little to smile about anymore.

 

Natasha gave a brusque nod. “There’s been a development.”

 

Clint’s face went cold. “No.” He shook his head, shrugging a shoulder as he turned his back to her. “I don’t want to hear one of Steve’s ridiculous schemes, it’s been _8 years_ ….”

 

“Scott Lang is alive.”

 

He stilled, halting in mid-stride, planting a foot just beside a fresh corpse. “Lang? The....Ant guy?”

 

“Ant-Man,” Natasha corrected. “And yeah. He wasn’t snapped, after all. He was trapped in some...time vortex. I don’t know the particulars but Scott does, and Tony can help him.”

 

Clint shifted, shrugging one shoulder. “And why does that matter to me?”

 

“Because it’s a time vortex, Clint. Because...there’s a chance we can save them.” 

 

He turned and glared at her. “Fuck off."

 

She darted forward, grabbing his arm. He stiffened under her touch, his glare darkening. 

 

“Watch it.”

 

“I can take you.” She snapped. “And _you_ fuck off. This is not some….some harebrained theory Steve and I made up, grasping at straws, this is real. There is something real behind this, we know it can work---”

 

“How?!” He whirled around to face her, grabbing her wrists painfully. He twisted then down and she gasped, arching up onto the balls of her feet, staring into his face. “They’re dead and gone, don’t tell me we can change that.” He let go of her with a soft push and she stumbled back, gripping at her hands. He stared after her, pained. “Don’t give me hope.”

 

Nat took a few deep breaths. She expected this. With every year feral, he grew more and more dangerous. She still didn’t think he’d hurt her but he was still on edge at the mere mention of Laura and the kids. She swallowed hard, biting back a retort; they were his kids and his wife, yes, but she loved those kids and she loved Laura like a sister, and he wasn’t the only one who had lost something. 

 

How dare he leave her so far behind.

 

She waited a few moments, taking a breather. She watched him walk over to the window and gaze out over the coast, wincing in the daylight. 

 

“You remember that Spiderkid? From the airport?”

 

Clint hesitated but didn’t turn around. “The one with the webs? Tony’s protege or whatever?”

 

She nodded. “Well, he showed up on Tony’s front lawn the other night. From another dimension.” She paused. “One where they brought everyone back.”

 

He turned away from the sun, brow furrowed but eyes wide, cautiously hopeful. 

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt so accomplished getting this up until I realized it had been a month 😩 I appreciate you all hanging in there. Again, no beta and I'm posting on mobile so please let me know if anything is borked.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my only worthwhile apology for the delay in updates (which is pretty standard right) is that this is a 7300-word chapter. eternal thanks to [@FerretShark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerretShark/pseuds/FerretShark) for their beta of this, it made it so much better.

Tony stayed quiet as Peter collected himself, wiping at his face and steadying his breathing. The kid still looked a little worse for the wear, but Tony managed to get a few laughs from him. The little smile that settled on Peter’s face didn’t seem forced to make him feel better.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Peter apologized. “It’s just not a real pleasant memory, you know?”

 

Tony nodded. “Can’t imagine it was all that pleasant an experience either. You don’t have to apologize, kid, I understand. You doing okay now?"

 

Peter flushed a little, his head dropping a bit in embarrassment. “Yeah. I’m fine, I’m sorry I got all weepy on you…”

 

“Peter, seriously, stop apologizing right now. Don’t want to hear another sorry from you for at least a few days. Now,” He set his hand in the middle of the younger man's back. “I’m gonna tell Steve I talked to you. I can tell him the details, or I can leave that to you. If there’s anything you want me to leave out…”

 

Peter shook his head. “Tell him what you want. Whatever helps, I can answer questions.”

 

Tony nodded. “Well, that’ll make Steve happy at least. Probably get him to back off a little. For right now, though, I think you should go lay down a little.”

 

Peter shook his head more firmly now. “No, you said it yourself, we need to work on the collider stuff…”

 

“Peter,” Tony began gently. “This is a lot. And I know it’s probably irritating for me to be worrying but I really don’t want you to have another seizure, especially not before I talk to Bruce and Dr. Raimi a little more. Just for like an hour or two, just take a break.”

 

“We didn’t talk about that yet.”

 

“We’re going to,” Tony assured. “I just want to get their read on it and in a little bit, I’ll have T.A.D.A.S.H.I let you know and you can come to join. I think that sounds pretty fair, right? Go watch a movie or something. I think your old PlayStation is still in the closet if you want to get into it. Some Star Wars game came out about a year after everything happened, I know you’ll be into that.”

 

Peter’s head tilted a bit at that and he smiled. “Oh yeah? Which one?”

 

Tony realized the boy had probably picked it up by himself by now where he was from, but he shrugged all the same. “I never played it. It’s in there, still in the plastic, I just…” He shook his head. “It’s dumb.”

 

Because Tony had seen the game in the store and bought it, without even thinking. He’d been in a newborn induced haze, up for almost two days straight between Morgan and his need to keep trying for _something_ to fix this. It wasn’t until he’d made his way home, the game in tow when he’d remembered….

 

Oh yeah. _Peter’s gone_.

 

And he’d left it at the Compound shortly after. That was actually when he’d decided to pack all of Peter’s things up and put them into storage; it had been an awful day. He’d intended to just leave it in there, in case anyone had wanted to play it, but then he’d walked into the room and saw the posters on the wall, the bed messily made and it had made his heart twist. 

 

It was better this way. 

 

He had kept everything, though, when he probably should have donated it.

 

Just in case. 

 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked softly. “You alright?”

 

Tony blinked himself back to the present. He looked over at Peter with a sad smile. “Yeah, kid, sorry. Zoned out. But yeah, it’s in the closet. There’s a bunch of your stuff actually, in different boxes, if you’re feeling nostalgic.”

 

Peter grinned. “More to distract me with right?”

 

“Exactly.” He patted him on the shoulder. “Now get out of here. I’ll have the AI give you a holler when it’s time to assemble.”

 

Peter only nodded, getting up and heading out of the lab. Tony watched him go, mentally urging his stomach to untie the knots while he gave himself a few moments to settle.

 

Hearing the details of his counterpart's end hadn’t been as painful as it could have been. It was much worse, having to see Peter relive it. It wouldn't do to dwell on, though. It had happened in another time and they had the opportunity here to avoid it and accomplish the same end.

 

Though if it came to it….

 

Tony’s lips pressed together. He had to report something back to Steve now that he’d gotten the information from Peter, but what he had to tell Steve was up in the air. Clearly, the part about Nebula was important; the bit about Vormir as well, anyone walking into that sort of situation should be prepared.

 

If they could prevent Nebula from being compromised by that past version of Thanos, they shouldn’t even have to worry about having to deal with him and his Army. But it just felt...too easy. Like anything that they’d ever done, something could and probably still would go wrong, and where would they be then? They had too real of a shot to play it safe, and Tony had just never been one to play it safe. He shook his head. They had to plan for the worst. 

 

Whatever it was going to take. They had to fix _this_ because they hadn't prevented it to begin with. 

 

Tony shelved that thought, though, when he heard the lab doors slide open. Bruce walked in, a plastic bag of food in hand with Rhodey following behind him. 

 

“If you’re here to tell me to be nicer to Steve, I'd advise for a different approach.” Tony cautioned dryly.

 

“You already know you need to do that, you don’t need to hear it from me,” Rhodey answered. “I’m just along for the ride today. Smelled some food, had to follow the trail.” He nodded his head towards the bag. “You ordered fries with it?”

 

“What am I, an amateur?” 

 

Rhodey smirked at him as if he had more than one way to answer it but refrained, digging into the bag first. He pulled out the food he wanted and sat on a stool, beginning to unwrap the sandwich and Tony grabbed at it next, looking at the food with a frown.

 

“There’s supposed to be 10 cheeseburgers in here, why are there only 9?”

 

“Nebula and Rocket got here when I was outside,” Bruce explained. “Scott was eating and they kind of...ruined it. I figured we could spare some to share.”

 

“Last time I let you grab the food,” Tony grumbled. He peered up at his friend, tone sour. “Steve’s really calling in the calvary for this one, isn’t he?”

 

“Are you really that surprised?” Rhodey chimed in, looking around the lab. “Where’s Peter?"

 

Tony shook his head, walking over to one of the cleared off workbenches, gesturing for the other two to follow. “Taking five. We had a talk and I told him to go relax for a little before we get together for a confab later to go over everything.”

 

“What kind of talk?”

 

“The kind that doesn’t change anything. Look, Bruce,” Tony looked up, eyeing the man, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I need to talk to you about the chamber that Scott brought with him. It’s small---about the size of a large minivan that’s been gutted. It generates and concentrates quantum energy to stabilize cells affected by it. You think that’s something that may help with the seizures?"

 

Bruce shrugged---an odd gesture for the man, now that he’d become some kind of hybrid of his Mr. Hyde self. “Could be. Taking Peter’s mutation into consideration, I don’t think it would hurt to at least try.”

 

“Not exactly the vote of confidence I was looking for.”

 

“Unfortunately, I don’t know that this is an area we’ve had a lot of experience in,” Bruce replied, sincerely apologetic. “You should talk to Dr. Raimi. She’d probably be able to give you a better estimate, she was a big help in figuring out how to merge with the green guy.”

 

“Noted,” Tony replied, divvying out the food. He gave Bruce a pointed look as he handed him his share then rounded the workbench, sitting across from Rhodey. He unwrapped the burger, taking a bite with a sigh of contentment. “

 

It was silent for a few moments as the men ate but Tony didn’t miss the looks that Rhodey kept shooting Bruce’s way, nor did he miss how Bruce kept fidgeting with his food, sparing the occasional glance Tony’s way. Tony forced a little bit of small talk---asked how Nebula and Rocket seemed, how the weather was outside or if they’d heard back from Nat yet---until Rhodey and Bruce were close to done with their lunch and then Tony sat up, clearing his throat.

 

“So, honey bear, you got something you wanna share with the class? Or are you gonna just keep making eyes at the talent over there?”

 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. He gave Bruce a long look, then shook his head, focusing back on the last of his food. “You might as well just tell him.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

Bruce sighed. “Look, Tony. I’m with you on this. 100%. But Steve wants me to go to New Asgard and I told him I would.”

 

Tony tensed up. He licked his lips and pressed his hands against the metal of the worktable and he could hear Rhodey straighten up, sighing as well.

 

“Tony---”

 

“It’s fine,” Tony cut him off. “It’s fine. We’ll make do. It’s gonna take time to figure out anyway right? What 3 or 4 days while you go on vacation?”

 

“Tony, you know I’m the only one who can handle Thor if he gets upset. And every time we go, it seems like he’s more distant and lost.”

 

Tony looked up at him then, any irritation fading away. Bruce didn’t look like he was happy about the situation; in fact, he looked downright annoyed and Tony had to imagine he probably had pushed back on Steve and had to deal with the Captain’s insistence. Peter’s expression from their discussion earlier came to Tony’s mind and he decided maybe now just wasn’t the time---this wasn’t easy for any of them. 

 

“It’s really okay, Bruce,” Tony replied, tired but calm. “Keep us posted, and send Thor our best. Hurry back when you can.”

 

Bruce’s shoulders relaxed and he slumped a little in his seat, smiling at them. “Thanks, Tony. I know the stuff with Peter is really important to you, I promise if I think of anything…”

 

“I know you will, big guy,” Tony gave Bruce a reassuring smile, then turned towards Rhodey, who was watching him like he knew there was something he wasn’t sharing with them but Tony didn’t want to get into any of that right now, if at all. He wanted to do it once when everyone was in the room, where they could talk through it all and be done with it. And what he really needed was to just...not worry about this for like five seconds. He grinned at the man knowingly.

 

“Sour Patch, how bout you fill Brucey in on your insect rescue? I’m sure he’d love to hear all about it.”

 

* * *

 

Peter dove onto the bed of his old room, wrapping his arms around the pillow and pulling it close under his chin. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to quell the overwhelming embarrassment he was experiencing.

 

How _dumb_ did he have to be?

 

God. Crying like a child, falling into Tony’s chest and just...being there. It had felt good, safe, he couldn’t deny that, but now there was this, this mortifying sensation and…

 

Guilt, maybe. Probably guilt.

 

He felt the pillow heat up around where he’d pressed his mouth as he groaned into it, muffling it so no one would hear. His tears had, thankfully, long dried even though he was a little tired from the interaction itself. Peter had been worried about something like this; the more they discussed how he had ended up here, the more questions that would arise about the differences of their two places---especially when one considered the details about the Snap. But when Tony had walked back into the lab earlier, Peter had known that something was off. 

 

It had to come up eventually, of course. Peter wasn’t sure what he thought was going to happen, but he just had decided to cross that bridge when he arrived and he was hoping, a little, that he’d be the one to steer it that way. But Tony Stark was smart and intuitive and of course, of course! The phone. Tony had a point, there was _no way_ Tony would have let him go to MIT with an outdated piece of tech, even if it was just to make sure that Peter reflected on Stark Industries well enough.

 

It was too much, Peter thought fleetingly, to tell Tony why he still had the phone. That...that was just his. Peter’s hand traveled down to his pants pocket and palmed the device, feeling relieved it was still there.

 

But okay. So this was what he had to work with. Peter pushed himself up into a seated position with a sigh.

 

The conversation had taken a lot out of him. And Tony wouldn’t stop looking at him, like _that_ \---a mix of pity and sadness and guilt, wherever that last one came from. There wasn’t a bit of anger or regret or disappointment, which actually made Peter mad because it meant….

 

It meant Tony didn’t think whatever had happened had been unreasonable or unnecessary or a mistake, all of which Peter believed them to be.

 

Tony Stark was the smartest person on Earth in Peter’s opinion. Tony had been able to fashion a gauntlet to wield the stones, something that Thor told him later had only been capable through a forge of a dying star. An actual dying star, something to harness and channel and withstand the power of something so magnificent and Tony had figured _that_ out so what was to say he couldn’t have figured out how to withstand the execution of them as well?

 

What it meant was: Tony hadn’t planned on having to use them. Which was fair. And with what Peter had told him today, maybe he wouldn’t have to anyway. But if he did----

 

Peter knew, with dreadful certainty, that this Tony wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing, not for a second. 

 

So now all he could do was wait. Peter flipped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Right about now, Tony was probably talking with the rest of the team, trying to figure out their next steps. His gut churned at the thought of facing Nebula and Nat again after they found out everything he’d not told them the first time around. He had a feeling Nat had already figured that out, after their talk the day before, but he worried how Nebula would take the news. 

 

Nebula was nice. He liked her and for the past few years, she’d made a point to stop by Earth at least once a year to check on Pepper and Morgan. Peter knew how she and Tony had saved each other during those weeks on _The Milano_ , the ship foundering in space on its way back from Titan. She had been oddly tender with Peter after Tony’s funeral; in the few weeks after, she had stayed, telling him stories about the interim 5 years he had missed, awkwardly but in a kind way, trying to convey that Tony had missed him. Peter had noticed her friendship with Pepper, her fondness for Morgan and for the other Avengers and he knew she’d carved out a spot here with them as well. 

 

And so he knew she was also not stupid, and would quickly surmise. Even if Tony tried to hide it, she would know that it had been _her_ younger self who had been at fault for everything going pear-shaped.

 

Peter's spider-sense piqued. It wasn’t on high alert or anything, it was more like a simmering sensation, an uneasiness that was intensifying, influenced by stress aside from his displacement. For a moment, Peter considered mentioning his nerves but thought better of it when he imagined how Tony may overreact. 

 

Peter really wasn’t just some kid anymore. He’d had to do a lot of this on his own in these last few years. Steve, Nat, Tony, they were all gone; and yeah, sure, Colonel Rhodes and Clint and Bruce were around, Sam and Bucky too, but it wasn’t the same. He’d been in too many skirmishes where it was his responsibility to call the shots and get out of tough situations, and he’d developed not only a competency for it but a level of confidence that meant he wasn’t just going to defer to whatever Tony told him to do. 

 

His heart was pounding. He needed to calm down a little lest his racing thoughts landed him in the med ward once again. Peter pushed himself up off the bed and headed towards the closet, intending to consider Tony’s offer regarding his things.

 

The Compound, in his time, had been completely destroyed by the time he’d gotten back. He hadn’t had a lot that he’d kept there, but most of it was stuff that pertained to his Spidermanning, anything that he hadn’t felt he could keep in the apartment---Aunt May may have let him continue to patrol and hang out with Mr. Stark but it didn’t mean she was exactly thrilled about it. 

 

Peter was familiar with a lot of the stuff that had happened during the Snap, everything was well documented, so any video games or movies or books that came out related to stuff he liked, he was acquainted with it. The Playstation was one of the first boxes in the modest pile of his things, and he sat back, pulling it into his lap.

 

He’d known which game Mr. Stark was talking about. He and Ned had played it a little at some point, but the wake of their return had been disorienting and between school and Aunt May, dealing with Mr. Stark’s death and patrolling it just...hadn’t seemed real important.

 

Peter felt a little strange, too, rifling through his counterpart’s things. It felt a little like an invasion of the guy’s privacy, though he doubted there’d be any surprises in any of the boxes. The gaming console set was identical to what he’d left behind---a couple of familiar games and one unopened, an illustrated cover set on an ice planet with giant robots, the Empire and the Resistance at odds once more. He smiled a little, turning it over to read the back out of habit. 

 

He pushed the box away when he was done, tossing the game gently atop the console, scooting forward towards the rest of the storage. The first box he peered into contained clothes---one of his favorite hoodies he’d never gotten back, and for a moment, Peter had to keep himself from snatching it up and putting it on; not just because it really wasn’t _his_ , but also because he’d grown a bit since the last time he’d worn it, filled out in his chest and back, even put on a few inches and honestly, he was still wearing Tony’s old MIT hoodie and it was comfy enough.

 

He folded the shirt and put it down. Other shirts were there as well---his science pun shirts, some he’d replaced and some he hadn’t. Sweatpants, his work out gear...and he smiled as he dug deep.

 

His very first Stark made suit, the one Tony had gifted him in Germany. In the two years after Leipzig, Tony had made improvements---first, only to the firmware, but then he’d had other ideas and Peter had eagerly put the first iteration behind and taken whatever Mr. Stark fashioned for him next. Similar but better; more lightweight, better give in the joints, cooler combinations.

 

Peter rubbed the fabric between his fingers with a smile. _It wasn’t so bad._

 

He took great care as he folded the suit, tucking it away safely. If he could be of any use here and help save the Compound, then maybe this Peter could revisit this someday, have his things. It would be a relief, he thought to himself, considering all of his and May’s stuff had been given to shelters long before the Snap had been undone.

 

Peter picked through the remaining things carefully. There were notebooks he’d used for school homework, stuff he must have left during his last stay before that terrible day, and he was uncertain whether it would have been on purpose or an accident. Tony had always helped him get through where he struggled and Happy had, on more than one occasion, been nice enough to drop his things off on Monday morning when he’d left them at the Compound over the weekend stay.

 

His eye caught something then, wedged in between one of his old textbooks and an old hard backed copy of  _ To Kill A Mockingbird _ . He reached for it, a manila folder made of heavy cardstock, the kind you’d find in filing cabinets for organizing papers, and he frowned a little. 

 

The **_Stark Industries_** logo was printed in one corner and in the opposite was a tab with his _name_ on it. 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙱., like from a typewriter, with a 5 digit number after it. His brow furrowed, and he flipped it open.

 

Inside was a stack of paper, held together in the corner with a paperclip. A cursory scan was enough to tell him these were copies of emails, initialed in the corner with a messy T. S. As he examined them further, his expression relaxed, and a small smile made its way to his lips.

 

They _were_ emails. Copies of emails, addressed to Midtown’s College and Career center, with Principal Morita of all people cc’d on them and Peter swallowed a bubbling laugh. _Mr. Stark had been reporting on him._

 

Peter shifted back, curling his legs into a crossed position as he rested the folder on his thighs and started to read. 

 

“ _ Mr. Parker is exceptionally bright _ ,” one of the emails started. Peter checked the date----September 28th, 2016, so only a few weeks before the Homecoming debacle, around when he’d dropped band from his after school extracurriculars. Curiosity piqued, he continued reading.

 

_ “He rarely hesitates when presented with a difficult scenario and approaches questions posed with confidence and sharpness that I don’t recall possessing when I was his age...” _

 

And it kept going. Details from his reports of patrols, sanitized, made innocuous enough to seem unremarkable outside of a normal extracurriculars. Peter’s mouth went dry as he flipped through the pages, letting them fan out as he thumbed by them, skipping months, and then even a year.

 

_ **July 2017** _

_ “I have been bested by an almost 16-year-old kid. Today, Mr. Parker appropriately corrected me when I miscalculated the trajectory of some equipment we are working on for the new Iron Man armor---a bonus project he has been given low-level access to. Nothing dangerous, I promise, nothing involving real projectiles, but it made me stop and think that maybe I'm losing my edge.  _

 

_ Or maybe the future is just as bright as I had hoped _ .”

 

Peter smiled, his heart thumping a little harder behind his ribs, making him ache. He could hear Tony saying it in his head, a little salty at it, a little impressed but dramatic as always. Peter remembered that day at the Compound. He’d been hesitant but pretty sure of himself, and despite Mr. Stark’s furrowed brow, he’d gently kept insisting that he thought there was something off with the math.

 

One smoking rolling chair later…

 

He coughed back a laugh and flipped through once more, all the way to where the entries seemed to dwindle. Fewer and further between; into early 2018, when he knew the wedding plans had really begun to get crazy, when Mr. Stark had kind of getting back into the suit building, much to Ms. Potts chagrin. He settled on an entry, one of the last, _March 2018_ and rubbed at his neck. 

 

“ _ My father always liked to say that character was something truly shown when a person didn’t think anyone was watching. A paraphrase, I'm sure, and to be honest, always kind of hokey to me but...we have cameras, outside of our buildings. Avengers tower is no longer owned by Stark Industries but we have some offices we rent out, just to have a presence downtown. Which is where we captured footage of Peter Parker, helping a mother and her small child carry groceries on a rainy day and getting them into a cab. A small gesture, but when I asked why he was all wet, he’d claimed he’d forgotten an umbrella.   _

 

_ The truth was that he had given his to her.” _

 

Peter swallowed hard. He’d remembered that, too.

 

“ _ Mr. Parker is bright. He is confident but polite and open to constructive criticism. He can sometimes doubt himself but doesn’t let it show too much; if you didn’t know him, you’d never be able to see it. And then, above all else, he is kind. All of these are qualities that are valued at companies all over the world, and I have no doubt that when the day comes, Stark Industries may be just one of many clamoring to take him on _ .”

 

Peter’s eyes were starting to prickle at the corners. There were a few more pages attached in the bundle, thicker than the ones of printer paper, and his smile became a wide-faced grin and he swallowed hard.

 

That dumb certificate.

 

_“I know,”_ Mr. Stark had said dryly, rolling his eyes as he slipped his sunglasses in the pocket of his suit jacket. _“Super lame but this whole things gotta seem legit kid. Here, stand here, and I’m gonna shake your hand and you gotta look serious now ...Peter, I’m **serious** , stop making that face...”_

 

Peter’s chest got tight. He knew exactly what was behind that certificate.

 

He bit the inside of his lip, flipping it over. A glossy, 8x10 of he and Mr. Stark, very politely and professionally staring into the camera, a 1000 watt smile on both their faces. It didn’t tell the same story as the one on Pepper’s mantle back home; that one had Mr. Stark’s exaggerated grin, the pair of them giving the other bunny ears, hanging on the other while they tried her patience to the limit. 

 

Peter closed the folder, pulling it into his chest, squeezing tight as he focused on his breathing. The heart monitor on his wrist was starting to turn yellow, a warning. He focused on steadying himself, on trying not to think of those things Mr. Stark had written to, of all people, his principal and the counselors at the school.

 

Mr. Stark was proud of him. Mr. Stark thought he was “exceptionally bright” and kind, and a good person. And Peter had known that, sure, but it’s one thing to just understand from being around someone and it’s a completely different thing to see it on paper, in ink, permanent for other people to read.

 

_Tony Stark_ thought he was valuable. That he might want him to work for Stark Industries one day. Which Tony and Pepper had said to him, but that still seemed so far away, something they just told him to make him feel good, it hadn’t felt... _real_ , but to see it there in ink changed that and not for the first, nor the last time since he’d arrived,  Peter found that being around Tony made him miss Mr. Stark more than ever. 

 

He balled his fists and shook his head, grabbing a different book from the pile in the box and climbing back onto the bed. He needed to clear his head. He needed to rest and calm down. It hadn’t been very long, but surely Steve would call them to talk about everything soon, surely they would want an update and when that happened, well. Peter wanted to be ready for it.

 

* * *

 

“I think you’re being unreasonable.”

 

Peter winced at Steve’s statement. He stared at the pair in the middle of the room, squaring off, Cap with arms crossed and Tony glaring at him.

 

T.A.D.A.S.H.I had beckoned Peter to the command center about 20 minutes prior to this standoff. He’d actually been able to really relax---he’d almost fallen asleep with the book he began reading flat against his chest, leaving him alert and recharged after the early afternoon ringer. He’d entered the command center to a corporeal version of Nebula, seated off to the side of the room. Nat was still gone, as was Bruce, interestingly enough, but Rhodey and Scott were back now, and Scott introduced himself with a chipper thank you for helping him get out of the quantum realm.

 

Peter had shifted uncomfortably. “You’re welcome...even if it was kind of an accident?”

 

“Eh, well, it happened so…” Scott patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy!” And walked off to stand next to Rhodey who just shook his head and shrugged.

 

Considering how weird it had started off, Peter wasn’t sure why he expected this to go anywhere remotely smoothly.

 

Tony had begun talking about the Quantum Stabilizer. Peter hadn’t missed the glances being spared his way, but Dr. Raimi was in the room, assumedly because Bruce wasn’t, and she was able to provide some measured, reasonable assumptions based on everything else they knew. Peter could tell Tony wasn’t crazy about that---he always wanted something more than _‘I estimate_ ’ or _‘I believe_ ’ but this was the best they had right now and Peter, at least, had faith that it was good enough.

 

Steve hadn’t wasted much time. He’d looked over at Peter briefly and asked Tony if he’d learned anything new. From that, Peter assumed Steve was just uncomfortable dealing with him and Peter could at least appreciate that. Tony seemed like the only person who Peter didn’t make uneasy, so he sat back as Tony began to gloss over their conversation. He hesitated only when he reached the bit about the hijacked Nebula and the room went silent for a moment. She looked around, then over at Peter as if he would tell her it was wrong, but he could think of nothing to really say, and she rose to her feet, walking out of the room. Rhodey held up a hand to the rest of them and followed her.

 

Tony had watched her go. Peter saw how his expression flickered, considering chase but ultimately deciding to stay where he was. Peter decided then that they'd hunt her down later after they were done here, and he’d talk her through it as much as he could.

 

Vormir was next. Tony handled that much better than Peter could have imagined---clinical, factually. “The Soul Stone, apparently, demands a sacrifice. A life, sacrifice. Clint and Nat went but only Clint came back.” 

 

The look on Steve’s face as he put it together----

 

Peter had never seen Steve so untethered. Granted, he didn’t really _know_ Steve, but the man rocked back on his heels as the words sunk in, expression going gray. Steve looked at Peter then, voice barely there.

 

“Nat?”

 

Peter licked his lips and sighed. “I’m...sorry. But no.”

 

A silence settled. Peter watched as they all silently looked at one another; because it wasn’t _just_ Nat. In order to gain the Soul Stone, someone would have to lose. If they were going to save a life, they would still have to sacrifice so much, and that would take some cunning. 

 

“I’m really sorry.” Was all he could offer. Steve looked over, expression soft. 

 

“Peter, I…” He swallowed. “I cannot tell you how sorry _I_ am. And how grateful we all are for your help. With this intel maybe we can….” He sighed. “I don’t know, maybe we can figure something out.”

 

And that was the last moment it was calm. Steve turned to Tony and asked the one thing he probably shouldn’t have.

 

“Where are you on the time travel issue?"

 

Tony’s head snapped up, looking at Steve as if he were the alien here. He laughed, barking, out loud. “Excuse me?”

 

“I assumed you were working on both, at least a little.”

 

And Tony laughed again. “Oh. I’m sorry, _Cap_. Did you want me to crack time travel _and_ interdimensional travel in a few days?? I’m gonna need a little more bandwidth here.”

 

_Unreasonable_. That’s what Steve called Tony next. He made a face, and Peter had to hold in a laugh. It was the constipated look Tony had often teased about in private, the pursed lips and sharp breath through the nose. When Steve spared a look his way, Peter covered it up with a cough. 

 

“Something amusing?”

 

“Um,” Peter shifted. “No, no, Captain Rogers, I just…”

 

“At ease, Cap,” Tony interjected dryly. “Like I said. Time travel second, getting him home first. He’s given me a lot of good information to go off of, but my focus is on him first.”

 

Steve watched Peter for a moment before turning back to Tony with a curt nod. “I understand this is hard for both of you. I’m really not trying to be a burden, this just feels…” Steve shrugged. “I just think we’ve waited long enough. If there’s anything I can help with, any of us, just please let us know.”

 

“You’ll be the first,” Tony assured. “I’m making some headway on the collider issue, but I have a few ideas I want to toy with. Might need Scott’s ear for that, if that’s alright?”

Scott nodded. “Anything I can do to help, yes. Absolutely.”

 

Steve sighed heavily, drawing the attention back towards him. “Same here. Peter, really, thank you for this.” He turned to their visitor, offering what Peter knew was an attempt at a genuine smile. “You’ve given us a lot to work with, so we’ll start strategizing now, while the technical side of things gets figured out. Does that work for you, Tony?”

 

Tony’s gaze wandered from Steve to Peter then settled back on the Captain once more. “It...actually really does. I...yeah. Thanks, Steve.”

 

Steve nodded. “I told you, we only wanted some intel. Scott, come with me. Let’s see if we can get Nat on the comms and check her status. If she comes back soon, especially with Clint, that’ll be another piece we can start to consider.”

 

Steve looked pained, despite the sureness that he spoke with. Probably because Nat was as obstinate as any of them could be when it came to being self-sacrificial. Probably because he knew whatever was going to happen on Vormir, there was going to be a fight about it. 

 

“Good luck.” Peter offered as they retreated towards the hallway. Steve stopped before walking through it, casting a glance back with a soft smile.

 

“Thanks, Queens.” His gaze flickered to Tony, then back to Peter. “You too.”

 

Tony waited until the door closed, then looked at Peter, his brows twitching upwards.

 

“Well, _Queens_ ,” He commented, suddenly droll. “Wasn’t that unexpectedly reasonable.”

 

“I can help more,” Peter offered, deciding to ignore the slightly jealous barb. “I know a little about how you figured it out, Bruce filled me in on it. I don’t know if I understand it the way you did but if I can put you on the right path…”

 

“In due time,” Tony said with a nod. “I’m going to take a look at the chamber that Scott brought with him. It looks like there’s some quantum mechanics behind the collider Octavius designed. I’m wondering if we can leverage some of that and maybe…”

 

“It’s going to take too long, isn’t it?” Peter asked softly. “To build something like what Fisk had.”

 

“Could. Unless we can figure out how to miniaturize it, or maybe use something else.” Tony’s expression turned serious. “I’m getting you home, Peter. I am.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I just think there's a way to do this better and I’m not really crazy about the idea of sending you through and not knowing for sure where you’re gonna end up.”

 

Peter wasn’t really crazy about that either. But he could tell them what he knew about the time travel stuff, like how Tony designed those GPS bracelets, or how he figured out the equation for even making them work. That was all something actionable but Peter couldn’t help noticing something hadn’t come up during their talk with the rest of the team.

 

“And what about you?” Peter asked softly, looking up at him. Tony frowned a little, cocking his head as he peered over at him.

 

“What about me?”

 

“You didn’t tell Steve about _you_. About what happened to the Tony in my universe.” Peter pointed out. “Did you tell anyone? Rhodey or Bruce or---”

 

“Bruce took the rodent on another of Steve’s errands, out to New Asgard,” Tony replied, short and agitated. “For all that magnanimity, what part of ‘second priority’ Spangles can’t understand will forever elude me…”

 

Peter wasn’t going to let Mr. Stark derail him so easily. “Nope, you can’t change the subject, you didn’t answer my question.”

 

Tony glanced at him sideways with a raise of his brow. "I told them about Nebula. I told them about the Soul Stone."

 

"But not about _you_."

 

"Because," Tony said, sighing a little. "If we take care of Nebula and figure out the Soul Stone thing, we don't have anything to worry about. It's a moot point."

 

Peter scowled back at him. "That's not why. You don’t want them to know because you don’t want them to keep you from doing it if it comes to that.”

 

Tony stared back at him. He didn’t even try to deny it.

 

“Because it’s 3.5 billion people Peter, just on Earth. Not to mention half the universe. You think they’re not worth one man?"

 

_Not to me,_ Peter thought. _Not to the rest of us._ “You’re not just one man, Tony.”

 

“I’m nothing special,” Tony replied evenly. He didn’t take his eyes off Peter, didn’t even blink. “It’s dark, but it’s true. Dying to save half the universe, as dying goes, is a pretty good way to check out. Blaze of glory and all that.”

 

Peter felt a sharp twist under his ribs and he dropped his head, swallowing hard. He tried to forget it, push it away, the smell of burnt flesh and a pair of vacant eyes, mouth open, struggling to hang on, just for a moment...

 

Peter stuttered, looking down at the ground, voice going quiet. “There was nothing glorious about it.”

 

Tony softened a little. “Kid. I’m sorry to put it like that. But...I mean, I kinda know how he would’ve felt, you know?”

 

Peter loved Tony if he was honest with himself. He’d idolized the man from the day Tony had uttered those immortal words---” _I am Iron Man_”---playing on repeat on every news station for days. He’d been star-struck when Tony had shown up at their apartment, he'd been overly eager to prove himself worthy to fight alongside him and he’d grown to love who Tony was when people weren’t around. It was those moments when they were in the lab and Tony was teaching him one thing or the other, when the hero-worship had waned and they’d fallen into an actual relationship, mentor and mentee, a friendship that Peter had been sure would last for a long time, that was what Tony became to him.

 

And for all the affection that Peter had for the man, the idea that this was about how _Tony_ felt struck a nerve.

 

“I’m the one who helps Morgan with her math homework,” Peter ground out. “I’m the one who she has help with science projects and goes on field trips when Pepper needs help and Happy or Colonel Rhodes can’t be there, and the birthday parties and sometimes just to go out and have fun----”

 

“And I can tell you I’m sure Tony would appreciate that,” Tony replied gently. “That’s a lot for someone your age to take on, and you didn’t have to---”

  
“That’s not the _point_ , don’t you get it? I love doing all that stuff with her, I love talking to her about you, but that’s not anywhere as good as the real thing. Morgan needs her dad. And my Morgan will never have that, but we can save that, here. You can’t seriously be telling me you don’t want to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

 

“Nothing’s guaranteed, kid,” Tony’s brows raised with a shrug of his shoulders. “Not at the expense of everyone else. Not if it’s the only way.”

 

“Well, what if it’s not?”

 

Tony blinked at him. “Kid, we can hope that switching Nebula out will work but there’s no guarantee. Maybe that’s just my destiny, to get rid of that big ugly ass---”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Peter practically seethed. “What if we can figure out a way for the worst-case scenario where you survive?”

 

Tony didn’t look convinced. “Pete, the power of those stones…”

 

“Trust me, I know what they can do, I’ve seen it first hand.”

 

And then Peter had finally done it----found a way to stop Tony Stark in mid-sentence cold, even looking fully contrite. He dipped his head, fiddling with the wrench in his hand, clamping his mouth shut, setting it in a line. He closed his eyes, shaking his head just a little. Peter continued on. 

 

“We’re gonna work on your suit,” Peter insisted. “We’re going to do what it takes to make sure that if you need to, the suit can withstand the snap.”

 

“That would be a really neat trick, kid, but that gauntlet was forged by some kind of space welding, we don’t have that kind of power here.”

 

“Well, you figured out how to make it in my timeline, I’m sure we can figure out the rest if we try. You’re going to work with me, while we work on everything else, to figure that out, or I’m going to Steve and Bruce and Colonel Rhodes---”

 

Tony scowled.

 

“---and I’m going to tell them everything you don’t want them to know.” Peter finished firmly. “You're all ready to save Nat and Nebula but _you_ ,” Peter shook his head with a sharp noise through his nose. “You think I’m dumb enough to go back home and let you do this but I’m not. I’m not doing this to them too.”

 

Tony softened, just a little. “Peter…”

 

Peter held up a hand. “You work with me on this or I’ll do it. That’s the deal.”

 

Tony stopped his approach. He stared at the younger man, frowned a little more, then outstretched a hand. “You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that Parker?"

 

Peter grabbed it, squeezing tight. “Yes I do, sir.”

 

“Well then,” Tony said, breaking the grasp, dropping his hand to the side and spinning around. He brought up both hands then, spreading them out over the empty air, a holographic frame materializing all around them. “Add it to the list. Lots to be done. Let’s get to work.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm thinking 4 or 5 more chapters to go, but that could always change. thank you all for continuing to read and comment and kudo while i take my time :) it is so appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unabashed ripoff of Into the Spider-verse but I have no plans in my current outline to include Miles, so I didn't tag it as such---its inspired by it, but as you can tell I flipped it. There's a reason for that. Please let me know what you think!


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